Trouble in Paradise
by ciaofay
Summary: Daisy is studying for her politics degree at Cambridge whilst simultaneously shadowing Peter Mannion for work experience. After a testy meeting with DoSAC she gets fired, only to be scouted by Malcolm Tucker weeks later and employed as his female equivalent of Jamie. Will she rise to the challenge or end up as a backbencher? And are Malcolm's intentions as chivalrous as they seem?
1. First Impressions

_Go easy on me, I'm not a politics whizz, I've just had this idea brewing for a long time._

_Pairing- Eventual Malcolm/OC_

_Set- Set just before the specials- Nicola will be making an appearance!_

_I only own my original characters_

_Chapter One: First Impressions_

_DoSAC_

Glenn had to admit, working on his day off was not only an oxymoron, but was one of his least favourite past times, not that he would call it that. Past time suggests an enjoyable experience of hobbies and afternoon tea, not an escapade of being insulted non-stop and feeling the utterly devastating feeling of drowning, non-stop. This particular Saturday was not a nice one to enter DoSAC's bland and modern building, marching with decaying intent up the five flights of stairs.

He had been called in, by Tucker, for a spontaneous trip to the Oppositions' building, for a friendly catch up, apparently. However, Glenn knew very well that when Malcolm said 'friendly', he actually meant the opposite. Unfriendly.

Peter Mannion had apparently granted them access into the building, to find out where they stood with each other. This was unusually pressing, as these types of meetings had always, in the past, been held under a very different situation. Mannion and his bunch of flailing morons turned up, only announced an hour before, and expect tea and biscuits to chat foreign policy.

This was different, this was change. This was fresh to Glenn's ears. Well… Fresh is not the word Glenn would use. Glenn would use the unsightly phrase, pretty fucking vile.

As he reached their offices, he was greeted by the usual group of rushing, faffing individuals who didn't really have a clue what they were doing, but were sure they were going to do it anyway. And, to be fair, they usually did, even if they did it in their own roundabout way.

"Glenn, Glenn, Glenn. Your day off. Look at his face, he looks like he's just witnessed Bambi's mother being killed right before his very eyes." Ollie said, leaning back in his chair with his usual smug smirk. Ollie seemed to genuinely enjoy winding Glenn up, maybe it was the way his little face fell with disappointment when he realised he was being ganged up on again, or maybe it was how he tried to argue back but always managed to make an archaic comment that made absolutely no sense to anyone under 75.

"Oh, fuck off." Glenn sneered, violently stripping his jacket off and slinging it onto his desk.

"I wouldn't keep that off for too long, if I were you. We've got a car coming in ten minutes to take us to the Opposition," Hugh called from the faraway depths of his coffee smelling office. He was leaning back in his chair, a disconsolate look on his face, his tie taken off and left in front of his desk. He had three empty cups that had previously been filled with cheap coffee, given to him by Ollie the same morning, trying to butter him up for a long day ahead. The happier Hugh was, the happier they all were.

"Don't sound so worried, Hugh. As long as you don't confuse your fucking arse hole for your mouth again, you'll be fine and dandy." Malcolm said, his usually scary grin plastered on his face as he marched into the office, briefcase tucked under his arm. "Glenn! Glad you could make it after you rained that torrent of particularly weak abuse down the phone at me. If you'd have asked nicely, maybe I wouldn't have _made_ you traipse in here, on your day off." Malcolm grinned with nasty intent. Glenn sat sulkily down as he read the newspaper the caretaker placed daily on his desk.

"You know you would have made me come in no matter how nicely I asked." Glenn quipped, before thoroughly switching his ears off.

Terri was the next in, wearing her casual clothes, being in the same situation as Glenn. It was also her day off, which meant wearing comfortable slacks which were uncomfortable for everyone else to witness, a peach coloured atrocity of a blazer and her usual trainers- which she wore on her particularly sporty days.

"Oh, Jesus Fucking Christ." Malcolm said quietly when she hurried into the room, coffee cup in hand, dog under her other arm. "Why have you brought your fucking dog with you?" He demanded. Terri looked offended whenever anyone even mentioned her dog, like it was literally her fucking baby that had sprouted from her insides. What a disgusting thought, Malcolm pondered as he glared at the dog with managed fury.

"I didn't know I had to be in today, I don't have anyone to baby-sit her!" She defended irately. "She might die if I don't bring her with me." She then added, making reference to the insulin shots in her bag.

"Oh, just let her pet her fucking dog if it keeps her quiet. And that, Terri, was not a euphemism. Please refrain from stripping your slacks off." Ollie said, pen in mouth, tapping it on his teeth as he grinned at her. She ignored him, as she usually does.

"Have to agree with him on that point, Terri." Glenn said apologetically. She shrugged at him, putting her dog down on an empty desk and unbuttoning her blazer.

"Oh, God. I didn't mean it was okay to strip your top half off!" Ollie exclaimed, shielding his eyes with his print out mask of Peter Mannion's face. Glenn grinned, retrieving his from the top drawer of his desk, along with his game of battleships. His game of chess was in the drawer below. His deck of cards in his bottom drawer.

"Shut up. I'm absolutely roasting. Imagine that, a lift not working in a government building." She said sarcastically, taking the blazer off. It was true, the whole building was in uproar. The lift had been cordoned off, with a security guard under strict instructions to refuse entry to anybody- even the bloody PM.

"Very witty- very witty stuff. Now, is everyone here? Has everyone got their packed lunches? Has everyone got their consent forms signed by their parents or guardians? Where's Hugh to dull down the mood of our little school's outing?" Malcolm asked, making a show out of looking for Hugh.

"I'm right here, and will you _please_ stop inferring I'm miserable." Hugh asked, in a particularly grumpy tone of voice, shutting his office door behind his as he joined the others. His tie was now firmly tied round his collar and a cup of coffee in his hand- intending to caffeinate on the go. Ollie shut his computer down and similarly stood, Terri begrudgingly picked her darling up from its comfortable bed of someone's paperwork, and Glenn had to try and stop himself from crying at the injustice of being at work on his one sacred days off.

"Let's go then. This is exciting, isn't it kids?" Malcolm asked as his unenthusiastic crew followed him out of their office and down the five flights of stairs.

_Opposition_

"I don't give a shit if her University placement scheme is running and she legally has to be here, send her out for a fucking long lunch. We cannot look amateur in front of the Motley Crew, who, I might add, are on their way right now. Get her out of here." Peter yelled at Emma, who looked flustered and was red in the face. Phil was standing nearby, watching with quiet joy as Emma got bollocked once again by the boss who apparently hated her.

"I can't just shove her out of the office! It's freezing outside! And besides, she has to give a report to her Uni about what we were like as employers; do you think that would go down well? At Cambridge? Just go and ask Stewart what he'd think of that!" Emma hissed, letting her hair down just to tie it back up again.

"Well, go and ask her to do some filing or something. Please, Emma, for once, just do as I ask." Peter begged. Emma sighed but nodded, leading the girl stood right next to her out of the room. Emma glanced at Phil, who shrugged in return.

"Is he blind or something? Was he not aware I was stood right in fucking front of him? The ignorant bastard." The girl muttered to Emma, who snorted in agreement.

"Tell me about it. He complimented me on my tits before. Nearly slapped him, but I quite like the salary I get here." Emma shrugged.

"So, who is this Motley Crew that are coming over? Nobody tells me anything." The girl complained.

"DoSAC. The enemy. Oh, just watch out for their spin doctor. I feel I should warn you as I warn everyone- he is a nasty piece of work. Don't let him get to you, in fact, if he starts on you, you have a go right back. You'll probably never see him again anyway. We'll back you up, the man's a prick." Emma ranted. "An absolute twat. Malcolm Tucker, you've probably heard us mention him."

"Of course I have. The infamous Malcolm Tucker." The girl smirked, her green eyes betraying her excitement at meeting him. She'd heard so much about him, he was like a living legend. "Reckon he'll have a go at Mannion today?" She asked, looking at Emma, who was glowing at the mere thought of Peter getting verbally castrated by Tucker.

"Almost definitely. Alright, so I want you to take these files from the cabinets; take them back into Peter's office in about… Ten minutes, and sort them out there. DoSAC will be there, he's hardly likely to turn you away in front of them. You can be in on the action. It's only fair; you're only here for another three weeks. Come and revel in the sight of Peter Mannion being burnt alive by the dragon that is Malcolm Tucker." She grinned.

"Oh, God. Thank you. I'll buy you some top quality wine as a thank you present." The girl grinned, curling a stray piece of ginger hair round her finger and pinning it back into her updo.

"That would be much appreciated." Emma grinned, only half joking. With that, she left her young comrade to it, winking at her subtly. "Ten minutes." She called without turning back.

"Absolute fucking traitor." The girl muttered as she set about picking a bunch of files up. "All of them, fucking hypocrites and liars- no wonder they're not in office."

Outside she heard doors slamming and a dog's bark. She frowned and rushed to the window. A group of about five got out of the car, seemingly arguing, and all wearing black, apart fro one woman who was wearing peach. A perfect example of foreshadowing a mood, she thought. She recognised one of them, the man with curly hair. She was sure Phil had printed a shit load of pictures of his face out and stuck them all over Emma's computer. It had caused quite an argument.

Now was her time to shine. She would take Emma the Traitor's advice, but only to make them all squirm, not to actually argue with Tucker. And anything Tucker _did_ say, she'd probably agree with considering the fact that they had a shared hatred of Peter fucking Mannion. Well, saying that, didn't everyone hate Peter fucking Mannion?

She carried only four files back down the corridor and into Peter's office, grinning when she saw he wasn't there- he'd gone to greet the DoSAC lot. Emma's plan would work.

A few minutes of idle waiting and pretending to be busy led to a large group of people walking in on her, already arguing.

"Oh, shut the fuck up with your insipid comments! I will strip you of your skin and sell it on fucking eBay to Bondage enthusiasts." She heard an angry Scottish man say to a red faced Phil. She had to make a conscious effort to hide her smile.

"Daisy! What the fuck did I tell you about working elsewhere today?" Peter shouted over when he saw her.

"You didn't tell me, you pretended I wasn't there and you told Emma instead." Daisy replied with a faux shy smile.

"And who's this little number? I don't believe I've met her before. Is she your concubine, Peter?" The Scot asked, presumably Malcolm Tucker. He was a lot different than her expectations of him. She knew he was Scottish, so for some reason, she imagined a kilt wearing, haggis eating, chain smoking, chain drinking individual with ginger hair tufting from his cap and a bagpipe slung over his shoulder- not that she was one for stereotypes.

What she actually got was a late 40's-ish man, with greying hair, an angry, slim face and dark, shadowy eyes which betrayed all of his feelings. Anger? Evident. Frustration? Evident. Boredom? Evident.

"No…" Peter tried to reply.

"We know you have a fetish for red heads. I mean, I heard you wank every night over Maggie Thatcher." Malcolm grinned, and the curly haired man laughed. Emma glanced –irritated- at him, but he simply turned his face away.

"She's on a placement scheme from Uni." Emma explained. "I believe she's studying… Business and politics?" Emma asked, to which Daisy nodded.

"An all-rounder, eh?" Malcolm asked sarcastically, expecting some sharp and witty reply from the girl with fiery hair.

"Not really." Daisy replied, in a deadpan tone, which made Malcolm lose his little grin and his stormy eyes narrowed slightly at her.

"It's nice to meet you." A woman in an alarming shade of peach with a dog under her arm said, smiling and attempting to shake her hand, but she couldn't stretch her arm out too much or else the dog would have fallen, so she settled for a nod instead.

"Oh, yes. Same here." A tired looking man said, sounding like an afterthought, with bags under his eyes and a coffee cup clasped in his hand like it was his life force, the only thing keeping him alive. She knew the feeling.

"Likewise." Daisy lied through her teeth, grinning at them.

"Can we please have a cup of tea?" An older man asked, not bothering with pleasantries, obviously pissed off with something. "God, every time you come over to DoSAC you get tea and biscuits on arrival." He then said.

"Oh, yes. Let's roll out the red carpet for Glenn Cullen, King of the Plebs." Phil commented.

"I am not a…" Glenn began, but was talked over by the peach lady. "Pleb!" He finished over the top of her.

"Yes, alright, Glenn!" The peach woman exclaimed, frustrated. "Everyone shut up and let's have some tea." The job looked like it drained her, the way she practically collapsed into her seat spoke words.

"Terri, can I just ask why you've brought your dog into our office?" Emma asked, frowning as Terri put her dog down and it began sniffing Emma's legs.

"It has diabetes. If she doesn't baby-sit it, it will die, so less of your judgemental tone." Ollie said, smiling at Emma with contempt. Emma simply ignored him.

"Daisy, would you mind making some tea seeing as you can't follow simple orders of staying away because you don't know what you're doing?" Peter asked. God, he was so fucking hateful and patronising.

Daisy nodded, smiling sarcastically at him. "I am on track to get a First in my politics degree, but you're completely right- I know nothing." She muttered sarcastically and quietly as she walked away, heels clicking on the stone floor of the intersecting corridor between the meeting room and the kitchen. The red walls fit perfectly with her mood- passionate and angry.

"Oh, a fucking politics degree? Rolling in the big guns there." She heard Malcolm Tucker joke behind her back, and it made her blood boil.

She turned around slowly, eyes narrowed, and she marched back over, green eyes flashing at him. Malcolm looked incredulous at her angry arrival in front of him. He was obviously loving every minute of her ambush, desperately wanting to her to comment so he could send another one right fucking back.

"Don't brush me off as if I'm insignificant, _mate. _I'm fucking significant, and in a few years, I promise you now, I will ensure I am a known name just to wipe your fucking, snobby nose in my success." Daisy snarled, eyes narrowed quite dangerously before she walked away again.

She heard a few titters as she left, but she didn't give a shit. She was going to spit in Tucker's tea.

As she waited for the kettle to boil, watching it shake on its holder, she heard tentative footsteps enter the kitchen. She turned her head to look, to find the worn out man enter. She knew for a fact, because of all his bad publicity, that it was Hugh Abbot.

"I didn't have a chance to introduce myself, I'm Hugh Abbot. I know we're not really supposed to like each other, Opposition and all that." He laughed nervously after shaking her hand. "But I respect you after standing up to Malcolm like that. And I suppose I just wanted to warn you for the shit torrent you're about to get when you walk back in." Hugh said, in all seriousness. Daisy nodded.

"I figured. It's okay, he's a middle aged, angry Scotsman who doesn't have anything better to do than criticise young people because he's jealous that they have their whole life ahead of them and he doesn't." Daisy smiled, and Hugh nodded, exhaling deeply.

"Thanks." He smirked at her, only half serious. Daisy smiled too, not retracting her comment.

Hugh watched as Daisy made the tea, idly tapping her foot on the floor. "I'll carry some." Hugh sighed, taking four cups off her hands, holding two in each hand by the handles.

"Efficient." Daisy smiled as a way of apology. Hugh seemed nice enough- if a bit egocentric and hectic.

"Curly hair, old grumpy man, peach lady and Phil." She said, pointing to each cup Hugh was holding individually.

"Ollie, Glenn, Terri and Moron. Got it." Hugh understood, walking away.

As soon as he left, Daisy spat in one cup of tea and immediately felt the satisfaction rise, making her feel suddenly more positive.

She carried four as well, intending to return for more. Hugh beat her to it, passing her in the hall.

Malcolm didn't drink his cup of tea.


	2. Terri's Carpet

_Chapter Two: Terri's Pissy Carpet_

_Opposition_

"So, let's get down to business, shall we?" Peter asked as they all sat down. They were sat in the meeting room, around the large oak table, all in a nice little circle like in primary school. At least, that was what Ollie compared it to. Circle time with the little kids- some acting more like kids than others.

"What exactly is this business, Peter?" Hugh asked, obviously getting more and more tired with every annoyed word that was spoken. "Why have you dragged us in here on a Saturday, when we all could be doing better things?" He joked, earning no laughs as usual, (apart from Glenn, who laughed like he was fucking Steve Coogan.)

"What was that? Was that a joke?" Stewart Pearson asked as he walked in, carrying a cup of tea. Like his personality, it was weak.

"Oh God, why are you here?" Peter asked, embarrassed that his spin doctor had turned up for no apparent reason. It was no secret that he found Stewart to be useless, the man couldn't efficiently spin even if his life depended on it.

"It's my job to be here and drop in on you unexpected. Make sure you're not doing anything you shouldn't be." Stewart said. He looked over to find a steaming cup of tea on the table- full.

"Anyone drinking that? Mine's run out- I need a constant supply of tea today. Had no sleep last night and I…" Stewart began.

"As much as we love your stories, Stewart, we are in the middle of something. Just take my fucking tea- I'm not a tea man anyway." Malcolm said. Daisy smiled. His mouth turned up at the corners slightly. He knew exactly why she was smiling.

Stewart took the tea and sat down, sipping on it gently. Malcolm's smile turned into a laugh hidden by a cough.

"Can we just get this over with?" Tucker asked, pointing at Peter, showing the obvious two leaders of the group in circle time.

"Like I said, I want to know where we stand with each other." Peter began, gesticulating with his hands. He was about to continue when he noticed Terri getting her notebook and pen out, and she interrupted his train of thought rather rudely.

"Regarding what, exactly?" Terri asked, trying not to get distracted by her dog, which had run into the next room.

"Oh, control your fucking dog, Terri!" Phil exclaimed, watching it run away into their office.

"Funnily enough, she can't do that. She doesn't have a telekinetic ability to control sentient beings." Ollie quipped, not particularly wanting to defend Terri, but instead wanting a reason to make a snidy comment directed toward Phil.

"Thank you, Ollie. She'll be fine." Terri insisted. Phil stood, walking into the next room to check up on it.

"Your dog has pissed on my chair." He complained a minute later, running back into the room, hands on hips as he stood in angry silence. Ollie snorted, rushing into the office.

"Oh fucking hell. She has as well!" Ollie guffawed. Daisy rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair and simply watching the scene unfolding.

"Oh, for fuck sake. Get your little piece of eye candy here to sort it out. She's not actually contributing anything to this get together, is she?" Malcolm asked, despite being amused at Stewart drinking her spit tea, she had still intended it for him. That pissed him off.

"Don't refer to me as eye candy. I take my job seriously." Daisy insisted, staring him dead in the eye.

"And that's why you spat in my tea, eh? We saw you in the fucking camera, love." Malcolm insisted, standing up to get in her face more. To that, she had no reply.

It took a while for Stewart to catch on, but he realised when he noticed everyone's eyes on him.

"Oh! That's this tea." He realised sadly, suddenly looking like he wanted the ground to swallow him up. He demurely placed it on the table, and tried not to dwell on it too much.

"For once I actually agree with Tucker. Daisy, sort Terri's incontinent dog out and then go and do some filing like I asked you to do." Peter nodded at her.

"I'm not sorting that fucking pissy carpet out. It's Phil's chair, he can sort it." She insisted, folding her arms over her chest.

"It's Terri's dog, I don't see why I have to clean the pissy carpet!" Phil exclaimed, sitting back down.

"Oh, you bunch of…" Terri began.

"Here we go." Glenn sighed, taking his larger-than-life glasses off and letting them fall down, held by the little string around his neck.

"Noblets." Terri finished her comment.

"Comedy gold." Ollie grinned, applauding sarcastically.

"Oh, stop being a sanctimonious bastard, Ollie." Emma rolled her eyes at him.

"Me? Me a sanctimonious bastard?!" Ollie scoffed.

"Yes you!" Emma exclaimed, wide eyed and annoyed.

"Says you, Little Miss Superiority Complex!" Ollie yelled.

"Oh, for fuck sake! Can we shut the fucking fuck up?!" Peter exclaimed. "I shouldn't have fucking bothered! Stewart drank Tucker's spitty tea, nobody's cleaning up Terri's pissy carpet and Glenn's fucking fallen asleep!" He yelled.

"I have not! I was resting my eyes." Glenn insisted, suddenly waking up and putting his glasses on.

"AND, to top it off, Daisy is still not doing what I ask, despite me fucking employing her!" He yelled.

"You don't actually pay me, and cleaning up a pissy carpet and filing inconsequential pieces of paper is not on my contract." Daisy quipped.

"I think that's fair enough. She shouldn't have to clean up the pissy carpet." Hugh nodded, trying to mediate things slightly.

"Thank you!" Daisy exclaimed.

"Yes! I agree. Terri should." Phil added, pointing at her.

"Oh, fucking hell. It's a pissy carpet; it hardly validates your group heart attack." Terri said, rising and hobbling into the next room. "That is a lot of piss." They heard her mutter upon seeing it.

"Just go on with whatever you were going to fucking spout out, Peter. Nobody's listening; nobody fucking gives a shit, but bore us all into a coma anyway. I'm due one anytime soon." Malcolm said, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair.

"I'm not in the mood to co-operate anymore; it will simply have to be another time. We've run over the allotted time and I have other things to do." Peter simply said, rising and leaving the room.

"Is he being fucking serious?" Malcolm demanded from Stewart, who shrugged uselessly.

"How should I know?" He asked.

"Oh," Peter came back into the room. "And Daisy, you're fucking fired." He said, pointing at her.

"I really couldn't care less, Peter. This whole fiasco of a fucking government will be duly noted in my report, and you will all be contributing to my final dissertation. Thank you, and good fucking night." Daisy said, standing up and marching into the office, where she averted her eyes from Terri bent over petting her dog (not a euphemism) and quickly put her coat on, slung her bag over her shoulder, poured a glass of water over Phil's chair to make him think the dog had actually pissed on his seat, and she left.

As she walked back through the meeting room to leave, she saw Malcolm Tucker sitting in his chair, leaning back, smiling at her. She stuck her middle finger up at him and walked quickly to the lift, pressing the call button and furiously hoping nobody followed to gloat.

She hoped this wouldn't come back to bite her on the arse when applying for jobs in the future.


	3. Trouble in Paradise

Chapter Three: Trouble in Paradise

_Cambridge University_

Despite the minor setback in Daisy's admission to her University mentor that she lost her job with the Opposition as a temporary shadow to Peter and Stewart, they all agreed that it was for the best. She was trying to learn spin from the worst spin doctor in the country, and she was trying to learn politics from some of the worst politicians possible to have- disorganised, out of the loop and fucking pathetic. She hated them all, especially that DoSAC lot, the peach lady and Saint Sweary were especially top on her list of people who had pissed her off that fateful day.

Two weeks later and she wasn't even thinking about it anymore. It was a temporary blip in her life, and now she was out of that shithole, she could concentrate on studying hard and achieving a first and getting _good_ experience so that she could get a job in a department that actually meant something. A department that people actually gave a shit about.

She hadn't always been such a hard-faced, two-faced bitch- once upon a time she'd wanted to be a fairy princess like the rest of them. However, by the age of seven she wanted to be a surgeon, by the age of ten she wanted to be a political journalist, by the age of twelve she wanted to be a model (a minor blip in her vocation choice,) and by the age of fifteen she wanted to do _something, _**anything**, in politics. She would not let some fucking middle aged pariahs tell her she couldn't amount to anything, despite it being her dream for eight years.

With four more months at University, she was thoroughly looking forward to starting the rest of her life- whatever it may be.

As she walked through the campus, clutching a bottle of water, a packet of cigarettes, her lighter, her blackberry and some paper, she wondered if she'd ever have to encounter Malcolm Tucker again. And the reason she was even thinking about him was that she had a great deal of respect for him. She knew they came from similar backgrounds, not especially well off or rich- hence why they worked exclusively for the Labour Party. He had made his way from the bottom to the top, and was now probably the best spin doctor in the country. Of course she respected him, how could she not? She just hoped that by the time she was fifty, she didn't have to rely on scare tactics to make her peers and colleagues act upon her words. Surely that was a weakness of Tucker's? He can't have always been like that, a fucking Scottish Vlad the Impaler.

On the way to the lecture theatre her boyfriend, Mark, fell into line with her footsteps, glued to his phone, typing furiously. He was okay, she supposed. He was tall, athletic looking, wore long sleeved sport jersey's with the top button undone- a typical Eaton boy. He was on the rowing team, badminton team and he enthusiastically played squash. He took politics because he believed that due to his money and wealth, he had a right to be the PM of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. He would soon learn that that was not how it worked, and you had to have thoughts and beliefs about things to be the Prime Minister- not just constantly nod and smile whenever anything intelligent was said to you, (however, it can be argued that technically, that is all PM's actually _do_.)

She'd explained the problems with Mark a million times over to people, and nobody understood why she stayed with such a shallow, insipid cock of a man. The reason was simple- it was good to mix in the right circles. Mix with influential people and you will get your name known. Of course, Mark knew she was using him. And he was using her right back. He knew she would one day be something brilliant in politics- if he got in with her before she got too famous, they could be the perfect ministerial couple. Of course, they would be unhappy and depressed later in life, but aren't all MP's? Those were their plans, and they both intended to let the other carry them out. A win win situation for all involved.

"I won't be coming home tonight, babe." Mark said, not taking his eyes from his phone.

"Got a game?" Daisy asked, adjusting her things in her arms as she took a fag from the pack, put it in her mouth and lit it. Mark looked disapprovingly at her.

"Yeah..." He said, distracted. She glanced at him, the fag still smouldering in her mouth as she put her lighter away.

"I'm not stopping because you don't like it!" She exclaimed, taking a drag and inhaling deeply, feeling the thick smoke curl down into her lungs and cough right back up again.

"You'll have to quit at some point. You can't smoke and carry healthy, British children." Mark said, and Daisy nodded, letting it slide.

"I'll quit when the time comes." She promised him, and he shrugged.

"Well, I'm playing badminton tonight with the chaps, and won't be home 'til late. If you just leave my food in the oven, I'll heat it when I get in." He said. Her delicate eyebrows raised.

"Oh, because you think I should just leave dinner in the oven for you? Make your own fucking food!" She exclaimed as he opened the door for her. She quickly finished her cigarette and stamped it out on the floor, before walking through the door. They both sat at the back of the lecture theatre.

"Oh, you know I don't mean it like that. I just mean, if you happen to make food, please leave me some." Mark asked, frustrated.

"No, you didn't. You implied that I will have especially made you dinner and left it in the oven like a 1950's housewife. You can fuck off- if you're going out, I'm going out." She said.

Mark had to admit, she wasn't the all perfect Politician's wife that he had wanted when he was a little boy, but she was the best he was going to get.

"Okay, darling." He said, once again distracted by his phone.

Daisy predicted that it would be about four years until he proposed, when they were both in influential jobs, and they would become Will and Kate figures. After that, she'd get pregnant, have three children, and two years after their last was born, he'd cheat on her and they'd stay together for the kids despite being wildly unhappy. And she'd accept that if it meant she could have her dream job. And he'd accept that if it meant he could have the money and status he desired.

"Here already? Oh, and look. You're sitting together." Margaret, their lecturer cooed when she saw them both. Both Daisy and Mark plastered fake smiles onto their faces, pretending to be content in one another's company.

"Oh, yes. Couldn't possibly leave the little lady sitting on her own." Mark said, only half teasing. Daisy's smile fell slightly, as did Margaret's. That was awfully archaic and patronising language for a twenty four year old man to say, she thought.

As more and more people filed in, they all knew not to sit with the couple of the minute for fear of coming between their perfect little lives. Mark had made his and Daisy's status very clear, and Daisy was sick of arguing with him to be nice to those less fortunate than him. She had to remind him that she had once been poor- something he liked to keep quiet. He'd go silent and red in the face whenever she mentioned that little fact.

_Opposition_

"Do you know when Daisy Maynard's vocation report is being reviewed? The report she gave us makes us look absolutely shite." Peter said in his weekly meeting with Stewart Pearson.

"We're going to invite her in soon and ask her to change her statement. I doubt she will, but there's no harm in doing so." Stewart replied, shrugging slightly.

"Is that it?" Mannion asked. "You're a spin doctor, Stewart. Do you not have a backup plan in case this goes tits up?"

"Of course I do." Stewart nodded unconvincingly.

"Which is?" Peter pressed. "For fuck sake! You're supposed to know this stuff! You're supposed to do your fucking job."

"Yes, I just need to think about it." Stewart said, tidying up the stationary on his desk as a way of averting his eyes from Peter's.

"If Daisy refuses to change her statement, we make sure that only a minority of trustworthy people know what her report actually says and will not leak it. And if they do, we find them and fire them. And then we blackmail the press into keeping quiet about what bad employers we are." Peter explained. "Jesus fucking Christ, Stewart. I shouldn't have to do your job for you." He sighed, his head in his hands.

A knock at the glass door made both men look towards it. It was Phil.

"I rang Daisy." Phil smiled after he had been ushered in.

"And?" Stewart asked.

"Voicemail." Phil replied, smiling at them.

"Is that it? Is that all you came to sodding tell us? Phil, you're useless. Keep ringing until she fucking answers! And if she doesn't, you go to Cambridge and you find her there. She'll be with the bottom feeders, the fucking small fry. She won't be hard to find. Just look for the least influential gimp there is and she'll be giving him a hand-job behind the bins." Peter ranted, letting his resentment for Daisy spill out.

"She wasn't that bad." Stewart shrugged, causing Peter to guffaw.

"You fancied her!" Phil exclaimed at Stewart, grinning. "Malcolm Tucker said Peter liked the red-heads, but it's actually Stewart who likes the Celtic women!" He grinned. Stewart gave him the middle finger.

"Yes, piss off now, Phil. Do your job." Peter waved him away, and Phil did just that.

"Jesus, he's a fucking imbecile." Stewart complained, watching as he almost tripped up over a desk in the office.

"I know. Why do I always manage to hire the biggest pricks possible?" Peter asked rhetorically, glancing pointedly at Stewart. The comment had gone right over his head.

_Daisy's Flat, London_

Daisy wasn't expecting any visitors on that Thursday evening, and so when she heard a knock at the door, she expected it was Mark coming home early. She'd told him she was going out so she ignored the door, wanting him to believe she truly had gone out. However, her judgement changed when she heard a more impatient knock at the door followed by a hesitant "DAISE?" through the letterbox.

Mark never called her Daise, so she knew it couldn't be him. She sighed, pausing the previous night's episode of News Night, and went to answer the door. Stood there was Phil, soaked in the rain, looking pathetic.

"Why didn't you answer sooner?" He asked, inviting himself in and shaking the rain from his hair like a wet mongrel.

"Oh, yes. Please, come in." Daisy said sarcastically, letting the door slam shut. Phil jumped when it made contact. "I thought you were my boyfriend." She quipped, walking past him and back into her living room. Phil followed.

"I can be if you want me to be." He said, only half joking, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"You fucking _what_? I'm not a virginity stealer." She said with narrowed eyes and an incredulous expression. Phil laughed awkwardly.

"You didn't answer the door to who you thought was your boyfriend? Trouble in paradise?" Phil asked.

"It's none of your fucking business. Tell me why you're here or fuck the fuck off." She snapped, not in the mood for wankers from her previous job.

"Peter Mannion wants you to come to the office and talk to him about your statement." Phil explained, looking at his feet.

"He wants me to call him a useless twat to his face?" Daisy asked venomously, brushing a curl behind her ear.

"Ha... No. No, he wants to try and get you to change it." Phil said, even more awkwardly than before.

"I won't do that, there's no point wasting our time. How the fuck did you find out where I live, by the way?" Daisy asked, turning to him with a disgusted and incredulous look on her face.

"I went to your Uni and looked you up in the directory." He shrugged.

"Please delete my address from your memory or I'll get my very athletic and strong boyfriend to rip your bollocks off and feed them to that peachy DoSAC lady's diabetic dog." She smiled pleasantly, and got up from the couch to show him to the door.

"Fair enough. You can be quite scary when you want to be." He laughed nervously. She opened the door and stood, bored, waiting for him to fuck off. "Right, well. I'll see you round." He said, saluting at her and walking away into the rain.

"Not if I can fucking help it." She muttered, slamming the door shut again and returning to the soothing and dulcet tones of Jeremy Paxman.


	4. The Meeting

Chapter Four: The Meeting

_Bradshaw and Pierce Solicitors, Brixton, London_

The meeting was dragging on slowly, time slowing down so much that Daisy would rather have stuck pins in her eyes than spend five more minutes there. She didn't even want to be there, it was another misguided placement scheme founded by her University, in order to get her some decent experience. She had done the Opposition, now she was being a government advisor to political court cases at Bradshaw and Pierce solicitors- the most judgemental and biased government funded Solicitors out there. She completely hated it. She hated having to lie and reassure normal people that the government were right about what they were saying, even if it was the most bent and corrupt policy going.

Moreover, she hated the meetings. When other dimwits explained government policy that they didn't even understand instead of letting her explain, which was, in fact, her job.

"Yes, can I get a fucking word in here? That's wrong! Our government is not supporting private schooling, but they are also not adverse to it! What they are plugging, and rightly so, is that public schools are not the cess pool of teenage pregnancies and happy slapping like the Opposition makes them out to be. They are wholesome, well rounded schools that promote diversity and understanding and for you-" Daisy began, but was, as usual, interrupted.

"Yes, thank you Daisy. I was explaining it perfectly well, thank you." Megan Monroe, a senior NHS advisor quipped.

"Yes, thank you Megan, but government policy is not actually your field of expertise, is it?" Daisy asked venomously.

"I'm a senior consultant! I think I know what I'm talking about." Megan replied haughtily. Daisy narrowed her eyes, while the leader of the meeting, Christopher Dunn, slammed his head on the table with frustration.

"Yes, alright Chris. He's right though, Monroe, Daisy was explaining it properly and like she said, it is her job to talk about official government policy. Yours is to advise us on NHS policy. Daisy, go on." Tony Bradshaw nodded. Christopher sat back up, smirking as Megan looked incredibly annoyed.

"As I was saying, you cannot say that our government is going to eliminate private schooling and therefore, I would advise the client to... To..." Daisy was once again interrupted, this time by a rather vicious argument occurring outside their glass dome of a meeting room.

"You tell that fucking woman to shut the fuck up about what she doesn't know, or I will gouge out her eyeballs with my fucking finger nails and feed them to the rats outside. Now get in there before she sets something in stone we don't want setting in stone!" Could be heard. Daisy peered out of the meeting room to find a familiar face staring right back at her. Malcolm Tucker. She narrowed her eyes at him in confusion.

He had just pushed Ollie Reeder into the corresponding room and was now watching him with furious intent.

"Ignore him, he's something to do with the government. He's always in here. Most of his MP's come here to get out of their bent situations." Christopher waved Daisy on.

"So, yes. I would advise the client to keep enrolling her children into the private school if she so wishes, but keeps it very secretive. Don't lie about it, because that could look bad in the court case, but just keep it quiet. However, it couldn't hurt to enroll them in a public school. I would advise the latter more fervently, but whichever she feels most comfortable with is fine." Daisy said, somewhat distracted but good overall.

"Which is what I was saying." Megan Monroe said.

"No it fucking wasn't!" Daisy exclaimed. "You were incorrectly advising! You were saying, enrol them all in private schools and fuck the consequences! That's not how it goes. MP's need to be careful, or their spin doctor will go fucking berserk, having to clean their mess up." Daisy said.

Daisy's raised voice attracted Tucker's attention, and he began listening more intently to what she had to say.

"Oh, MP's don't really use spin doctors. They're a cautionary measure, like a prostate exam." Megan said.

"Oh does everything you say have to somehow be related to the NH fucking S?" Daisy demanded, glaring at her peer. Megan raised her eyebrows indignantly. "This meeting has nothing to do with you, why the fuck are you even here?" She asked.

"I was invited. And someone as young and inexperienced as you needs help." Megan said simply.

"Oh, 'I was invited.'" Daisy copied in a faux posh accent. "Not good enough. You don't need to be here, get out!" She exclaimed.

"Sorry, Daisy. You can't actually do that." Christopher said, trying to govern then slightly.

"Oh I can. This has nothing to do with you, for all we know you might leak it. Come on, out." She said, getting more and more worked up. She lifted Megan from her seat by her elbow and marched her to the door.

"You don't think spin doctors are real?" She asked. "Go and talk to him, Saint Sweary of Glasgow." She said, practically throwing Megan Monroe over to Malcolm. "Oh, and I do not need fucking help. You need fucking help!" She exclaimed.

"Yeah, very clever." Megan snapped.

"What's this?" Malcolm asked, pointing rudely at the advisor.

"She thinks spin doctors are a cautionary measure."

"So you thought you'd hand her over to me?" Tucker asked, pointing at his chest, blackberry clutched in his hand. "I don't even know who you are, darlin'. How do you know who I am?" He then asked.

"Of course you know who I am, Malcolm." Daisy sighed. "I was with the Opposition for a while. I spat in your tea but Stewart Pearson drank it instead." She said.

"You spat in his tea?" Megan asked.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, love." Malcolm said, raising a hand to shush her.

"Don't talk to me like that." Megan insisted, standing indignantly and trying to control her frizz of hair that had escaped it's tight updo.

"Just deal with her. I know you're not fucking busy because you just launched Harry Potter's fucking ugly brother into that room to do your dirty work. I think you can do mine." Daisy said before kicking open the glass door with the heel of her shoe and sitting back down in the meeting room.

Malcolm was staring at her with something akin to evil fascination in his grey eyes. He soon turned his attention to Megan Monroe, however. The patronising bitch of the NHS.

"Spin doctors are a myth then, are they?" He asked.

_**DoSAC**_

"I need to speak to Hugh. Where is he?" Malcolm asked Glenn as he walked into the usual bland office.

"He's on a call. Alicia's ill again, we think." Glenn said, motioning to Terri who nodded in affirmation.

"I give him one minute to get off that fucking phone until I'm going in. Call it my charitable act of the decade." Malcolm joked.

"Very nice." Glenn said, putting his massive glasses back on.

"Fuck me! It's Deirdre Barlow!" Malcolm exclaimed, to which Terri and Ollie laughed.

"Nice. Witty." Glenn glared at Malcolm, who was grinning away.

"Are you in a good mood, Malcolm? You seem very jolly." Terri commented, spinning to face him on her chair.

"Jolly? Would you call me jolly? I've just got some possible good news, that's all. Don't fucking cum your pants about it." Malcolm said and immediately wished he hadn't. Ollie was frowning, and Glenn simply pretended he hadn't heard.

"Is this about your new crush?" Ollie grinned, tapping a pencil idly on the desk. Malcolm's grin fell and he glared at Ollie.

"Crush? Who's your crush, Malcolm? I feel sorry for her." Glenn grumbled.

"That girl that worked with Peter for a bit. The red haired one. We saw her today and he's fallen in love a little bit." Ollie laughed, while Malcolm went to backhand him.

"I have not! Now shut your fucking mouth before I shove my fist in it."

"You'd like to shove your fist in her, wouldn't you?" Ollie asked, having to dodge out the way as Malcolm properly went to hit him.

"C'mere you little fucking sprog!" Malcolm exclaimed, making Ollie laugh even more.

"Is that laughter I here? Makes a fucking change." Hugh said, emerging from his office with a sour and tired look on his face. "Alicia's got a cold, which means she apparently gets the whole year off school and her own private nurse. Fucking hell." He complained, rubbing his face with his hands.

"You and I need a wee word, Hugh." Malcolm said, steering him back into the office. "And if Andy Pandy makes any more comments about me, or that ginger cow from Peter's lot, you tell me and he'll have a hard time holding onto those useless little knackers of his." Malcolm said, all joviality gone, making his threat sound all the more... Well, threatening.

"What's this about, Malcolm?" Hugh asked, sitting back in his well worn seat and leaning right back.

"That girl, the red haired girl. What's her name?" Malcolm asked.

"I don't know who the fuck you mean, Malcolm. Please elaborate." Hugh asked.

"The girl! The girl! You know the fucking girl!" Malcolm explained. "Peter's girl."

"Peter's girl? His love child?" Hugh asked, leaning forwards slightly.

"The girl he had working for him a few months ago! With the red hair. You helped her because you fancied her. What's she called?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know?" Hugh asked, eyes closed with frustration.

"Well find out, I need to call her in for a chat." Malcolm said.

"What about? Has she impressed you, Malcolm? Do you need to ridicule her and get rid of her will to live like you've done the rest of us?" Hugh asked, picking up the phone to call Peter.

"You, do what I say. I'll be back in an hour. Get a meeting room ready. I think an interview is in check."

"An interview?" Hugh asked. "Are you being serious?"

"Yes, we can't let her go back to Peter. She's too good. We get her on side we'll be fucking flying. Get her name." Malcolm instructed.

"Yes, mein fuhrer." Hugh said. Malcolm let that slide, and went back into the office of dunces.

_**Bradshaw and Pierce Solicitors, Brixton, London**_

"Oh, Daisy, just answer the fucking phone. Stop putting it on hold." Christopher snapped. The meeting to discuss what was to be done about a certain MP was going further and further downhill, but luckily, she'd made the right call on getting rid of Megan Monroe- it was ever so slightly easier to function without her.

"Right, okay. Be back in a minute." Daisy sighed, getting up and fishing her phone from her blazer pocket. She stood in the hall where Malcolm Tucker had been stood an hour before and answered.

"Daisy Maynard?" She asked.

"Daisy, hello. It's Hugh Abbott here, calling on behalf of Malcolm Tucker." He said. Daisy frowned.

"Oh for fuck sake." She said, causing Hugh to smile ever so slightly.

"Is it okay if I pass your number onto him? He wants to give you a call later. I wanted to make sure this was the right number." Hugh explained.

"Not really." Daisy said, getting ready to hang up.

"He wants to interview you!" Hugh exclaimed, knowing she was about to go.

"What?" She asked. Hugh didn't say anything. She waited a few moments until she spoke again. "Pass it on to him." She allowed, before hanging up for good.

She sighed slightly, but put her phone back into her pocket and made her way back into the meeting room.


	5. The First Bollocking

Chapter Five: The First Bollocking

_Malcolm's Office, Number 10 Downing Street_

Daisy knocked on the mahogany door to Tucker's office, feeling an odd mixture of dread and excitement. She had the feeling it was all a joke and he was simply luring her in to kill her or maim her- anything for passing Megan Monroe onto him for no good reason.

"Come in!" Malcolm exclaimed. Daisy tentatively pushed open the door and walked in.

Malcolm looked blankly at her. "What are you doing here?" He asked.

"The interview. You called me in for a fucking interview." Daisy said, already frustrated with him.

"Oh, yeah. Take a seat. And watch your language, you're supposed to be a fucking lady." Malcolm said, she ignored his little quip and pulled up a chair at his desk.

"Right, first things first, do you know what you're actually being interviewed for?" Malcolm asked, finally putting his phone down and turning his attention completely to her.

"No. You haven't told me that, have you?" She asked sarcastically. Malcolm ignored her little quip.

"Officially, you would be a media consultant, in training, under me." Malcolm explained. "But really, you would be my left hand woman. You would be my eyes and ears and help me out with spin. Is that something you'd be interested in?" He asked her.

"So I would be your PA? Are you fuckign joking?" She demanded.

"PA? In what world does junior spin doctor mean PA? I'm trying to help you out!" He explained, eyes flashing dangerously.

"If I'm your eyes and ears that means I'm basically your PA." Daisy claimed.

"That's not what I'm saying." Malcolm assured her, eyebrows raised. "It would be a high up position, and you should count your lucky fucking stars because you're getting a big break here, Little Miss Sunshine." Malcolm told her patronisingly. "Is that good enough for you?" He then asked sarcastically. Daisy exhaled deeply and nodded.

"Good. Let's get started." Malcolm said, adjusting some documents on his desk. "Are you afraid of face to face, violent arguments?" Malcolm asked.

"I think I could manage that." Daisy smiled.

"Would you like the job?" He asked.

"Isn't that impulsive? You don't know if I'm any good at spin." She reminded him.

"I'll be training you up, darlin'. Nobody expects you to be brilliant, but you're in the loop and you seem to know what you're doing. You're also fairly intelligent and outspoken, which is exactly what I need. When can you start?" He asked.

"Well, I need to quit my current job. And I'm still at Uni. I can't be here all the time." She said.

"How many months do you have left?" Malcolm asked her.

"Three." She replied.

"That's sorted. You work part time for three months and then full time after that. Deal?" He asked, holding his hand out. She shook it, smiling but trying to hide it.

"Sign this." He said, not looking at her as he handed her a contract. She didn't bother reading it, she simply signed it. "You not reading over that?" He asked her, she shook her head. "Atta girl." He said, giving her a few more documents to sign. "Agreement to work only for our government, agreement to never leak information which would ruin our work etc etc. Same stuff you'll have signed for Peter. Now, I need to give the PM a ring. You stay there." He said, pointing at her as he left the room. "Sam! Get Daisy a coffee." He shouted.

"Hey Boss. Yeah, I got her." Malcolm said into his phone as he paced the corridor outside. He laughed, causing a rather sour looking gentleman to double take as he passed him in the corridor.

Meanwhile, Daisy finished signing the documents sincerely hoping there was nothing unfortunate in them. She trusted Tucker, and knew that contracts could always be broken. She put the pen down and then decided to ring Mark. He'd been hoping she wouldn't be offered the job, he wanted her to focus on helping _his _career because he acted like they were living in the fucking 1950's.

"Hey- what? I don't care if you're busy because I got the job." She grinned, hoping he'd put his greivances aside and be supportive. "Oh, so you really don't give a shit?" Her mood immediately darkened. "Oh, I don't know why the fuck I'm staying with you. I'd happily leave you, you know? I'm the breadwinner now." She reminded him. "Oh, you love me now, do you? I'll see you later." She said, hanging up and signing.

Malcolm came back into his office and sat opposite her. "Right, you're shadowing me today, darlin'. And it just so happens DoSAC is in a wee bit of bother. C'mon." He said, gesturing for her to follow. He opened the door for her and waited.

_DoSAC_

"Who the fuck is Claire Donnoway?" Hugh demanded, checking his phone as various alerts annoyingly buzzed through.

Ollie rushed to his computer and looked her up. Terri was behind him, also on the phone. "I can assure you that this alleged affair between Claire Donnoway and Hugh Abbott is a complete myth- he is happily married..." Terri said, glancing at Hugh who gritted his teeth. "He is happily married with children and would never do that. Well- if you'd let me get a word in, I could tell you that we actually do not have a clue who Claire Donnoway is, so how he'd manage to sleep with her is beyond me, Mary." Terri said frankly, scratching her face with her pen.

"Claire Donnoway, backbencher for Bolton's council. Recently been promoted into Number 10 and has sold her story to the papers that she slept with you to get the job." Ollie told Hugh.

"Oh, Christ." Hugh said, slipping into his chair. "Why choose me? I'm fucking insignificant." He complained, rubbing his face with his hands. Glenn similarly sat down next to him, trying to offer some support.

"Tucker'll sort it. The man's a magician. Don't you worry- this bird won't be singing for long. He'll kill it faster than he did Terri's dreams of making DoSAC a dog-friendly government building." Glenn assured him, texting under the table.

Meanwhile, Malcolm was storming down the hall, making his way to DoSAC. Daisy was having to jog somewhat to catch up, which was awkward in heels and a pencil skirt- but she managed nonetheless. "What's happening?" She asked, struggling to catch up with his long strides.

"News has got out that Hugh Abbott has been demanding sex to promote some fucking nobody into an insignificant, badly paid fucking job. Jesus Christ, he's gonna be slaughtered by the press." Malcolm complained as he opened the door to DoSAC and held it for her. He found it vaguely amusing that she had to skip in order to make it.

When they arrived, they found the ministers to be panicking, all on their phones and arguing profusely and badly with the press.

"Here's what we do!" Malcolm exclaimed, not wasting time on pleasantries. "We get this fuckin' parasite in and demand what the fuck she's playing at, then we demand she admit she lied, she resigns and fucks off back to Bolton." Malcolm explained.

"Won't it look like we're paying her off to keep quiet?" Daisy asked. The silence was audible in the room.

Hugh, Ollie, Terri and Glenn winced on her behalf.

"And what the fuck would you know?" He asked, testing her.

"Well, if I was some average citizen and I heard that she'd been asked to change her statement and then resigned, I'd be suspicious that she'd been paid a hefty sum." Daisy shrugged, leaning back on a desk and eyeing him up, weighing his reaction.

Malcolm studied her for a second. "What would you suggest we do?" He asked her patiently. Ollie bit his fist.

"I would get her in, ask her what the fuck she's playing at, demand she change her status, shame her in the press, make sure she's demoted, give her a good, public telling off from the PM and leave it at that. Don't force resignation on her, don't give her any money, just shame her for being a fucking liar." Daisy said, arms folded as she idly kicked her heel against the leg of the desk.

Terri had moved back slightly, files pressed to her chest like a Roman shield. Glenn was trying to look nonchalant, cleaning the lenses of his large glasses with his tie. Hugh was still mourning the loss of his reputation and quite possibly his job, wife and children. And Malcolm was oddly impressed.

"Okay, let's compromise. See, this is good isn't it? It's good having two of us." Malcolm grinned at the four bystanders.

"Is that what she is?" Glenn asked. "I thought you'd just dragged her in. Christ, he's got a minion now."

"Watch what you're saying, you shady fuck. I'm stood right here." Daisy snapped, not wanting to be known as the girl who took all of their shit on the chin. Glenn seemed putback. Ollie smirked but hid it with his hand, Terri shrugged it off- used to hearing similar offences. Malcolm had an evil glint of appreciation in his eyes.

"Right, compromise. We get her in, we- as in you and me Daisy here, terrify her into submission because I'm in the mood to bite her fucking neck off and piss down her throat. Like you said, we get a public telling off from the PM, she gives a public apology, everything's public and then we fire her when it's all blown over just for revenge." He said.

"What about that then?" He asked her. She contemplated it for a moment.

"Good." She said, smiling and nodding.

"Well, there we go." Malcolm said jovially, spreading his arms out. "Problem sorted. Terri, get Claire Donnoway in. Don't take no for an answer, fucking drag her by the hem of her suspenders if you have to." Malcolm said, walking away, blackberry out once again.

"You lot, look after Daisy!" He exclaimed, and Daisy stopped following him, realizing sadly that she wasn't wanted.

She turned back to the DoSAC lot who were looking at her with a mixture of apprehension and admiration.

"Fuck me, you actually got Tucker to change his mind without him biting your head off." Ollie said with a great deal of respect loaded in his voice. Glenn even applauded her a few times.

"She's not going to come in. No point trying." Terri sighed, walking to her desk and going through her contacts for people who would know Claire's number.

"If she says no, give me the phone." Daisy said. Terri looked apprehensive about that, very aware that she was new and none of them actually knew her job role.

"So what are you actually doing here? Temping?" Glenn asked.

"I'm Malcolm's new 'left hand woman.'" She explained. "Spin doctor in training." She grinned evilly. "Daisy Maynard." She told them, in case they'd forgotten from their past meeting.

"He's cloned himself." Hugh mumbled into his hand. "Oh, shit. It's the wife." He said with sheer horror as his phone rang. "Excuse me." He said, getting up and begrudgingly rushing into his office.

"He's gonna get fucking bollocked." Ollie grinned at Glenn. "Surprised you're not in there taking the call for him. Or, you know, licking his arse as you usually do."

"Oh, God. He's an arse licker is he?" Daisy asked, folding her arms.

"I do not lick arses!" Glenn exclaimed, storming to his desk and collapsing on his chair. "Have some respect! That man might be losing his family." He hissed.

"Oh, big fucking deal. From what I've heard he never sees them anyway." Daisy brushed off with a wave of her hand. Ollie smirked, offering her a chair.

"Coffee?" He asked her. She shook her head.

"Tea." She smiled.

"Robyn!" Ollie exclaimed, to which Glenn looked up.

A tense looking lady with blonde hair and a gaunt face walked into the office. "Yes?" She asked.

"Could we have tea's, please." Ollie said, sitting back and smiling.

"You're not busy, make your own!" She exclaimed.

"I don't know if you've heard, Missy, but Hugh Abbott has been accused of cheating on his wife and giving undeserved women promotions. We are very fucking busy, thank you very much. Tea, two sugars please." Daisy snapped, verging on growling.

"Who the fuck is she?" Robyn asked as she began to make her way to the kitchen.

"Daisy Maynard, Malcolm's female equivalent to Jamie." Ollie shouted. Robyn's pace seemed to quicken.

"Hello, Terri Coverly here from DoSAC. We have heard the allegations made against Hugh Abbott and we were wondering if you could come in for a wee chat about exactly why you've sold this fake story to the press?" Terri said prudely into the phone. Daisy's glare flicked over to the violet clad lady.

"Well, we both know it _isn't_ true, so shall we say about one hour?" Terri asked, looking more and more tense. She looked up at Daisy, with panicked Bambi eyes. Daisy took the hint and walked to Terri's desk.

"I'm just going to pass you onto a colleague, thank you." Terri said, sliding the phone to Daisy's outstretched hand and visibly relaxing as the pressure was taken off of her.

"You get your arse into this building in the next hour or I will personally dig up some dirt on you that's so bad- and not necessarily true- that you'll be crying to your BNP supporting, benefits scrounging husband, who we all know has a tendency to abuse animals." Daisy hissed into the phone.

"Oh, she's good." Ollie nodded.

"Of course it's true, it's as true as your little fairytale about your passionate night with Hugh, am I right? Alright darling, see you in an hour." She said, and hung up.

"Course she's good, I fucking hired her." Malcolm said, leaning on Ollie's chair. Ollie jumped so hard he almost fell forwards.

"Fucking hell, Malcolm! How do you do that?" He demanded.

"It's a little magic trick." Malcolm grinned. "It was alright. Still some fine-tuning." He admitted, causing Daisy to narrow her eyes.

"Fine-tuning?" She demanded.

"Come on." He said, gesturing to the door.

"Fine-tuning? That was executed perfectly!" She exclaimed as they left the office.

"We'll be back in half an hour!" Malcolm yelled just before the doors slammed shut.

"Jesus Christ." Glenn said, shell shocked- as was everyone else.

"Wasn't she a pushy little madam?" Terri asked, leaning back in her chair with a sour look on her face.

"She did your job for you." Glenn reminded her. She ignored his quip.

"I liked her." Ollie shrugged, smiling slightly.

"Obviously, you've practically got a hard on. I don't think you could have been creepier with her then, Ollie." Glenn joked, grinning.

Robyn walked back into the office, a cup of tea in her hand. "Where's she gone?" She asked, sounding distinctly pissed off.

"Oh, she's gone. Sorry, Robyn." Ollie said.

"Fuck sake. Who wants it?" She asked. Nobody replied. She exhaled deeply and poured it into a plant pot, slamming the mug down on Ollie's desk before walking back to her own.


	6. Talent Spotting

Chapter Six: Talent Spotting

_DoSAC_

"What do you make of her?" Ollie asked Glenn, who was hiding his phone under the table as he played online chess with one of his many online buddies. They were all single, middle aged men who hid their phones under their desks, but they probably had more job satisfaction than Glenn.

"Who?" Glenn asked, distracted. His opponent had made a potentially cunning move with their bishop.

Ollie stared at him for a moment, the embarrassing uncle who swore to look cool. "Daisy." He said, sitting up straight and sorting his tie out as he did so. No response came from Glenn. "Glenn!" Ollie exclaimed.

"Alright, calm down." Glenn said. "What?" He asked him, finally looking up. His move had most definitely been strong.

"What do you think of Daisy?" He asked. Glenn shrugged.

"I don't really have an opinion on her. She's like the One Show." Glenn replied. His move had failed and he frowned at the 'check mate' alert that popped up with an annoying bleep.

"Ah, you've lost at chess again, have you Glenn?" Terri called from her desk, spinning round on her chair.

"'I won actually." Glenn lied.

"Ah, well done poppet." Terri replied, and Glenn resisted the urge to vomit. "Well, what do you think of her?" Terri asked.

"Of who?" A familiar and terrifying voice asked. Malcolm had returned.

"Robyn." Ollie responded naturally.

"She's insipid." Daisy said without a second thought.

"You've met her for, at most, one minute." Ollie protested, humoured by her. Daisy shrugged and leaned on the desk.

"We got a call from the bitch of Eastwick- she's about two minutes away. Get Hugh in there with us, he can make her feel guilty." Malcolm ordered, taking Daisy by the arm and leading her into an empty meeting room- complete with glass walls so the others could spy on what was going on- which is exactly what they intended on doing.

"Hugh!" Malcolm yelled from the office, glaring out of the door until Hugh's docile face popped around his office door.

"What?" He asked, sounding put out.

"Get in here you daft sod!" Malcolm exclaimed, and Hugh visibly deflated a little before leaving his office. Hugh entered the glass office and noticed the packet of biscuits Terri had so kindly put on the table moments before.

"Oh, Jammy Dodgers!" He said happily, taking a seat.

"They're not for you." Daisy said, slapping his hand away. "They're for your little lady friend." She smirked, but Malcolm didn't.

"Daisy, go and check if she's here." He demanded. She did so, taking her blackberry Malcolm had given her an hour before with her. As soon as she left, Malcolm turned to Hugh.

"Now, Daisy's good. Very good, in fact. She has a natural understanding of spin, but she isn't brilliant. Just bear with her." Malcolm asked him.

"Is this Malcolm showing a bit of leniancy and support to someone?" Hugh asked, feigining deep shock. His eyebrows were even raised.

"This is me trying to train someone up so I can take a holiday once in a blue moon. Also, I don't want her leaving and going to the dark side. She's good right here where I can see her." Malcolm explained.

"Sounds a little bit creepy." Hugh commented under his breath.

"You fucken what? Don't make snide comments about me, Hugh, I'm about to save your whole fucken life." Malcolm said, his anger bringing his Scottish accent out a little bit more.

"Right, what you need to do now is put on your sob story you've been putting on about your wife and children, and job, and make her feel sorry for you. If that doesn't work, we do what Daisy said and make a scandal up about her." Malcolm shrugged, clapping his hands together and taking a seat at the head of the table, waiting patiently for his minion to return with Claire.

When they finally did three minutes later, Claire already looked like she'd had her ear chewed off and her wrist slapped by Daisy, who looked positively furious.

"And that's why you don't fucking lie. Anyway, nice to meet you. This is Malcolm Tucker, and this, as you apparently know, is Hugh Abbott." Daisy snarled, taking a seat next to Malcolm and leaving the shaken lady on her own, stood up.

"Ah, Daisy. You've forgotten your manners- it's rude to leave someone stood up." Malcolm said dangerously, standing up and stretching his hand out with an awful smile to Claire. She shook it hesitantly, her gaunt face paling even more. "Nice to meet you, darlin', take a fucking seat." Malcolm said, and Hugh put his head in his hands.

As Malcolm pulled out a chair for her, he whispered something in her ear. "You've messed with the wrong fucking man, sweetheart." He hissed, before putting his smile back on and sitting back down next to Daisy.

"Now, if you'd just like to talk us through what happened between you and Hugh?" Daisy asked, rather patiently for someone who already knew the answer- nothing.

Claire coughed, very embarrassed now that she was sat in front of the man she was claiming to have had sex with. It was as if he'd been reading her dirty fantasies- only Hugh Abbott was most definitely not her dirty fantasy. He was her ticket to a well paid job.

"Well, um, like I told the press- we had sex." Claire said very simply, staring at the wooden desk.

"Wrong answer." Malcolm said, leaning forwards on the table with his bollocking face very much plastered on.

"Christ." Hugh mumbled into his hands. Claire looked as if she was about to cry.

"I...I.." She fumbled for words.

"Is that all you can say?" Malcolm then asked, standing up, not being able to stay still.

"Who exactly did you leak this lie to?" Daisy asked, a pad and paper out as she wrote down a few notes and ideas.

"Daily Mail." Claire replied sullenly.

"Worst of the lot." Daisy sighed as she scribbled something down. Claire watched her with a sense of dread settling in her stomach.

"I don't know why you look like you've found out you've got an unwanted pregnancy. You must have seen this coming when you fucking _lied to the press_!" Malcolm roared, and Claire flinched.

"I'm sorry." She said, her voice wavering slightly.

"Right, well what's going to happen next is not very nice and the whole country is going to know the truth. You're going to be publically shamed and the press are going to be all over like fucking gonorrhoea on Russell Brand." Daisy said in a monotonous voice.

"The PM is going to shame you girl, on the news, and you're going to have to accept it." Malcolm shrugged. "You're going to retract your comment, you're going to get demoted to your old job, and eventually, you'll be fired because nobody wants a liar working in the government."

"Well, that's a lie. We're all fucking liars." Hugh spoke up for the first time.

"Nice of you to join us, you're like the fucking USA in 1917." Malcolm commented, glaring at his peer.

"I don't want to be demoted." Claire said, tears welling in her eyes.

"With all due respect- actually. Fuck that. With no due respect, you told a lie that may have lost me my job, my wife and my children. How the fuck did you think you were going to get away with it?" Hugh asked in a docile manner.

She shrugged, taking to looking at the desk instead of meeting the three pairs of glaring eyes staring at her.

"You stay here, Daisy and I are going to draft you a statement which you will read out on national television in half an hour." Malcolm said, standing up and grabbing his phone, as did Daisy. He opened the door for her and they left.

Hugh awkwardly shuffled from his seat, took a Jammy Dodger and left too, slamming the door on Claire.

Whilst Daisy and Malcolm waited for Sam to fine-tune their statement as she usually did, removing all cusses and making it seem more people-friendly, Daisy and Malcolm used that time to get to know each other a little. Or offend each other. Same difference, really.

"All I'm saying is, you go a little over the top." Malcolm told Daisy, a small smile on his face, knowing her reaction would be an angry one.

"I, _I _go over the top? You're infamous for going over the fucking top! I thought it was part of the job description." Daisy exclaimed, tapping a pen on the desk with agitation.

"I don't go over the top, I... Ah, just answer the fucking phone." Malcolm said, referring to her mobile which was ringing for the third time in ten minutes. Daisy looked forlorn and finally answered the phone.

"What?" She hissed. "I'm at work, Mark." She told her boyfriend. Malcolm raised his eyebrows and watched her. "You should know how to cook for yourself, you're not seven. I'm also not a fucking housewife." She said. "I have a fucking job now, Mark, I don't have to make your food and do your fucking washing. I'm finding it very hard to find any reason why I'm still your girlfriend at the minute. Yes... Yes... Love you too, fucking prick." She said before hanging up and shoving her phone in her bag after switching it off.

"Trouble in paradise?" Malcolm asked sarcastically.

"It was never paradise, it was a strategic move on my part, a kamikaze move on his." Daisy explained, with a slight hint of sadness in her voice.

Malcolm shifted, slightly uncomfortable, not happy talking about genuinely personal and emotional things, especially with someone who he didn't instinctively fucking hate.

"Right." He said, tapping his fingers on the desk. "Sam!" He then yelled, incredibly loud and with what seemed like discomfort in his voice. The brunette poked her head through the door, pen behind her ear, papers in her hands. "Have you nearly done?" He asked, somewhat quieter.

"Nearly, I'm in the process of removing all your fucks." She replied sarcastically, walking back to wherever her worker ant station was.

"Don't get testy about my fucks!" Malcolm shouted, grinning. He glanced at Daisy's unresponsive face.

"What?" He asked her.

"That was a fucking shit joke." She told him. "In fact, it's hard to tell whether that was a joke or not." She informed him.

"Oh, fuck you." He told her quietly, causing her to grin.

"So, are you going to Ben Swain's book launch tomorrow night?" She enquired, tugging on a strand of her hair.

"I have to, as much as it fucking pains me. I'm expecting you to be there by the way." He informed her.

"But it's only my first day, you can't expect me to turn up to such an event when I'm already feeling so vulnerable and exhausted." Daisy said with mock horror, placing a hand over her heart.

"Oh, darlin', I'm so sorry that I have to do this to your fragile person, but you need to turn up I'm afraid." He said, checking his blackberry, once again smirking.

"Ah, I'll just have to fucking cope then, won't I?" She asked.

"That you will, girl. Besides, you need to meet Jamie. I have every intention on flinging you together to start a wild romance." He informed her.

"I'm in a very committed and stable relationship." She told him, lying out of her teeth.

"Ah, of course. I wouldn't do that to you anyway, Jamie's a prick. A funny one, but a prick nonetheless. This is an official warning to you, no matter how much he tries to flirt with you, which he undoubtedly will, you are not to open your fucking legs, got it?" Malcolm asked her, pointing his blackberry at her.

"Got it, mein fuhrer." She smirked.

"Ah, Sam. Thank you, give yourself a break darlin'. Go on, you fucking deserve it." Malcolm told her as she handed Malcolm the new script for Claire.

"You go too easy on her." Daisy told him, watching him with critical eyes.

"I have to go easy on her, she's the only one round here, apart from me, that's good at her job." Malcolm told her, skimming the document quickly. "Right, this will do. C'mon Daise." He said.

"Oh, I've adopted a new name already. Just glad it's not something horrible like... Twat face or something." She said as they left the office.

"Twat face? If that's the worst you can come up with, maybe that should be your new name." Malcolm laughed.

"Ah no!" She complained, once again having to perform a slow run to keep up with his long strides.

~8~8~8~8~8~8~8~8~8~

"I would like to sincerely apologise for any harm or trouble that has been caused by my slanderous remarks regarding Hugh Abbott. I most certainly was not telling the truth, and would like to take this opportunity to announce my demotion along with my personal apology to Hugh and his family for the lies I have told. Furthermore, I would also like to apologise for twisting the truth and causing you, the public, to believe lies about your minister. I did not, in fact, have any relations, professional or sexual, with Hugh Abbott and would definitely like to take back my suggestion that he is not a professional man. My deepest apologies. Thank you for your time." Claire said in front of the camera's, reading from her script with shaky hands. She walked off camera and back into DoSAC's office and away from the cameras.

Daisy greeted her at the door, taking the script from her and also taking the microphone taped to her lapel and storming away from her, her heels clicking on the floor the only sound she had made.

"I'll show you to the door." Terri said, gently pushing Claire along with her as they walked to the lift.

"Do tell Hugh I'm sorry." Claire asked.

"Will do. It's a rather sorry situation, isn't it?" Terri asked.

"Well... Yes." Claire agreed, staring at Terri like she was simple.

Terri uttered a non-committal sound and went to follow Claire into the lift when the doors pinged open.

"It's okay, I'm sure I can find the door." Claire insisted rather desperately, hands out to stop Terri from entering the lift too.

"Ah, well. If you're sure." Terri said, not lingering for one second and rushing back to the office. Hugh was on the phone to his wife and Terri didn't want to miss a second more of the heated argument.

~8~8~8~8~8~8~8~

"Admittedly, you did good today." Malcolm insisted as he walked Daisy to her car.

"I hardly did anything. It was all your thinking." Daisy said, smiling slightly uncomfortably as she tried to find her car in the darkness of 9.30pm.

"Well, you acted very well on behalf of me. Even if you did go over the top." He joked. "Now, go and get your beauty sleep before Ben Swine's book launch tomorrow night, it's going to be fucking dreadful." He said, as he unlocked her car and threw her bag in.

"Thanks Malcolm." She said sarcastically. "And once again, you know, thanks for roping me in for that tomorrow." She grinned, once again sarcastically.

"Ah, no problem. I'm just delighted that you're excited." He said, leaning on the open door as she got in and buckled up. He shut it as she unwound the window and drove off, shouting a hurried goodbye as she rushed to get home and get to bed.

Malcolm watched her go, hands in pockets, before nodding to himself and walking back inside.

"Not too fucking bad, Tucker, you talent spotter." He congratulated himself.


	7. Book Launch

Chapter Seven: Book Launch

Everything was going well, all things considered. Ben Swain had stayed away, using his very limited wit to sense that Malcolm, Daisy and Jamie did _not _want to speak to him. Malcolm was dressed to the nines, in a new Ted Baker tuxedo, Jamie dressed in a Westwood tux, while Daisy was wearing a mid-length, pale yellow dress, which suitably had daisies stitched around the regularly low neckline and was rather tight. Malcolm would even go as far as saying she looked pleasant- if she wasn't glaring at any man that came near her.

As she drifted away from Malcolm, being meeted and greeted by various influentials, Jamie couldn't help but swagger over and comment.

"Found a nice one there, Malc. Makes a difference from the usual trolls you hire. You after her, or what?" Jamie asked, taking a sip from his champagne.

"Of course not, I'm a professional." Malcolm insisted. Jamie raised his eyebrows. "Plus, she's not my type. She moans a lot and always has to have the last fucking word." Malcolm explained.

"Malcolm Tucker, can we have a chat?" Julias Nicholson asked, sidling over and looking at him pointedly.

"Oh, here we fucking go. You stay there, don't you fucking approach Daisy, got it?" He asked, pointing at Jamie as he followed Julius into the adjourning room.

Jamie's eyes glanced over at Daisy, who was idly chatting with Glenn and Angela Heaney over some red wine. He downed his champagne and walked over to them.

"Hi, Daisy, isn't it? I'm Jamie, Malcolm's gay lover." Jamie introduced, holding his hand out.

"Oh, he's told me so much about you. Shame about the size of your dick, he complains _all the fucking time_ about it." Daisy smiled sweetly, shaking his hand.

"Aye, I know. Too big for him apparently, he's used to inadequate cocks fucking with him." He said, looking pointedly at Glenn who shuffled away uneasily and talked to Hugh.

"Angela, always horrendous to see you." Jamie said, nodding at the journalist.

"Likewise, Jamie." Angela said, smiling falsely, sipping from her glass as she averted her eyes from the duo. She wished she'd shuffled along with Glenn, and she stared at the back of his head imploringly, hoping he'd turn and invite her into his and Hugh's conversation.

"I don't know what you're looking so shifty about, you've not written _another_ degrading article about me, have you? Oh no, the last one was only last fucking week, don't want to over do it, do you?" Jamie asked, getting angrier with every word.

"Right, everything I wrote in that article was true." Angela said, on the defensive, pointing at him with a slightly shaky hand.

"Haha, I read that article. It was brilliant." Daisy grinned, nodding supportivley at Angela. Daisy knew it was always good to have a hack on your side, no matter how much you had to kiss their arse to actually get them on your side.

Angela nodded uncomfortably as Jamie's eyes darkened. "I'm going to talk to the humans now, Jamie. Daisy, I'd leave as soon as possible if I were you." Angela advised, hurriedly rushing over to Ben Swain to get a statement about his book.

"I think you can handle it." Jamie smiled at Daisy. "I'm going to the bar, want a top up?" He asked, glancing at her nearly empty glass.

"Better not." She said. "Malcolm's insisted I don't get too pissed on my second day of work." She explained.

"Oh, go on. It's a free bar, all coming out of Ben Swain's pocket." Jamie told her.

"The most expensive champagne, please." Daisy grinned, handing him her empty glass.

"Atta girl." He said, taking it and walking to the bar. Left on her own, Daisy searched the room to try and find Malcolm, he was walking into the room with a bald man who looked like a tennis ball boy in a suit.

She watched as he searched the room for someone, and when he set his eyes on her, he'd apparently found that someone. He marched the bald man over to her.

"Daisy, this is Julius Nicholson. Entertain him. Where's Jamie?" Malcolm asked, looking flustered.

"Getting drinks. What's happened?" She muttered, moving close to him so that her words were inconspicuous.

"Someone has leaked information about the PM. He has a second home, only he's selling it to buy a bigger one." Malcolm muttered, speaking right into her ear. She had heels on to make up for the height difference.

"That's not too bad." Daisy replied, looking at him imploringly.

"Fucking listen!" He exclaimed impatiently, eyes darting about. "An estate agent was taking a young family around when they walked in on him in a compromising situation with a hack." He hissed.

"For fuck sake." Daisy sighed. "Well, it's the family who leaked it, obviously. Get them."

"It's not that simple, the estate agent had to report it to his firm for future reference, so they could contact him before the next viewing to make sure he's definitely not fucking a journalist in the bathroom." Malcolm murmured.

"The fucking bathroom?" Daisy laughed. "Sorry, not funny." She grinned. Malcolm's smirk lasted for mere seconds before he sobered up once more.

"It could be anyone from the estate agency." He whispered.

"Fuck." Daisy cursed. It was at that time that Jamie returned with drinks.

"Champagne, madame." He said, handing her the glass of very crisp, and very expensive vintage champagne.

"I need a wee word." Malcolm said, his eyebrows raised and his teeth clamped together. It was his bollocking face, and Jamie believed he was going to be bollocked for talking to Daisy.

"What?" Jamie asked.

"A new scandal has come to my attention. Fucking come on." Malcolm said, taking Jamie by the arm and pulling him out the room.

A few heads turned at the sight of them storming out, and Daisy was immediately the new figure of attention, with everyone swarming around her to get the information.

"What's happened?" Terri asked quietly.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing. I believe the mood simply compelled them, they've gone for a quick shag." Daisy joked, smiling worriedly, trying to act naturally.

She made eye contact with Nicholson, who gave her a wobbly thumbs up. "Keep them busy." He mouthed.

"Daisy, what has happened." Hugh insisted, staring at her with quiet intent.

"Nothing has fucking happened. Now fuck off and leave me alone!" She exclaimed. "Ollie, I can see you trying to leave. Want a quick bum by Malcolm too?" Daisy called, walking over. "Have this." She said, handing him Jamie's spare champagne.

"Oh, I was actually taking a phonecall, not spying on the two Scottish Machavelli's." Ollie insisted uncomfortably.

"Won't mind if I join you then, will you?" She asked.

"Fuck sake, fine. Tell me what's happened and I won't follow them." Ollie whined, his lie breaking down like broken glass.

"I don't have to tell you a fucking thing, who do you think you are?" Daisy demanded. "It's a private conversation, what gives you the right to march in there and listen?" She asked. "Give me that fuckin' champagne." She said, frowning as she snatched the glass back. "Glenn, here you go." She said, handing it to him with a smile. She had to admit, she had something of a soft spot for Glenn.

"Oh, thank you." Glenn smiled, taking it and turning back to his conversation with Hugh and Terri.

"God, Malcolm's powers are really terrifying. Really fucking terrifying." Ollie said, gazing down at Daisy.

"What you talking about?" She asked him, frowning.

"He's actually converted you... Actually, no he hasn't. You were a fucking bitch when we last met, too." Ollie muttered, looking away.

"Ah, I see what you did there. Very clever, very clever. You're very fucking clever for a prick who looks like he's only just realised that his girlfriend is a sour bitch who will never give him any fucking happiness. Yeah, enjoying your doomed relationship with Emma, are you?" She asked. Ollie glared at her.

"I heard yours isn't perfection, either. Enjoying your fucking manufactured relationship, are you?" He asked her right back.

"How the fuck did you find out about that?" She demanded.

"I know your boyfriend, obviously. Mark's told me about it." Ollie told her.

"Well, Mark's a fucking prick. Why don't you fucking tell him that the next time you bum him for information?" She demanded, grabbing her phone, a fag and her lighter, storming outside, and slamming the door behind her.

All eyes turned to Ollie, who scratched his neck uncomfortably. "Why do girls always do that?" He laughed nervously, slowly walking back into the crowd.

_A London Backstreet_

"How do you know Ollie Reeder?" Daisy demanded over the phone, fag in hand smouldering into the night.

"He's friends with my brother. Why, what's wrong? My game finished over so I'm in the cab heading over now, wait outside for me doll." He said, hanging up without even an answer to his question. She sighed and rushed round to the front of the government building near Downing Street where Ben was holding his 'party.' His cab soon pulled up, and he got out, paying the driver before sidling up to her and kissing her cheek.

"Come on, introduce me to your friends then." He said eagerly, basically pulling her inside. She twisted and flicked the fag on the floor before allowing him to pull her inside, where they came face to face with Jamie.

"Where did you go?" He asked her.

"She was meeting me. Matt, the boyfriend." Matt put on his best Eaton smile, and held his hand out for Jamie to shake.

Jamie saw the disconsolate look on Daisy's face. "Get to fuck." He snarled at Matt. "Daisy, I need a word. Now. On your own." Jamie said, obviously very angry.

"Yeah." She said to Jamie. "Sorry." Daisy said, without meaning, to Mark, before dropping his hand and following Jamie through the bustling crowd. Mark, meanwhile, looked useless. Like, as Malcolm would say, a marzipan dildo.

"Mark!" Ollie grinned, punching his friend's arm and handing him a champagne. "Daisy fucked off, has she?" He asked.

"She's a busy lady, she's influential." Mark said, nodding at Ollie.

"All she does it shout at people, you know?" Ollie affirmed.

"She told me it was that, but I think she's underestimating herself." Mark convinced himself. It wasn't very proper for him to be at home while she works by shouting at people, was it now?

"She's really not." Ollie laughed, leading him further into the room, which was becoming more alive with the arrival of other people.

"Daisy, I need you to contact the PM and get his people to arrange a meeting with this estate agency." Malcolm said, thrusting a phone in her general direction which was already ringing, whilst going back to his own phone call. Jamie similarly got his phone out and continued an interrupted call.

"Hello, this is Daisy Maynard contacting on behalf of Malcolm Tucker..." Daisy began, and Malcolm glanced at her. A lack of self confidence? Why did she have to mention Malcolm?

"Yes I am aware of the current situation, we need to get... Stop interrupting me! We need to arrange a meeting with the PM and this agency as soon as fucking possible, what time's best for tomorrow morning?" She asked, scrabbling in the random desk at hand for a piece of paper and a pen. She bent down to lean on the table.

"Daisy, I-" Mark burst into the room.

"Get the fuck out!" Malcolm roared, throwing a pen in the direction of the door.

Mark glared at him and shut the door.

"Of course it has to be in the morning- the morning is when they will properly leak it. What time is best?" She asked again. "If you keep giving me vague answers I'll conjure a time up myself." Daisy warned. "Right! I fucking warned you. 9Am sharp. And if he doesn't turn up, you personally are in for a lot of shit, my friend." She said, before hanging up.

"No! Of course it's not true, would I ever lie to you?" Jamie was asking on the phone, rubbing his hair with his free hand.

"Tony, let me stop you right there. The PM is a devoted husband, he hasn't been anywhere near that second home for years!" Malcolm exclaimed.

Daisy scribbled a few notes down on the paper before switching to the computer she'd turned on to find the phone number for the agency. She tapped it into the phone before ringing.

"Hello, this is Daisy Maynard, a rep from 10 fucking Downing Street, and you have a meeting at 9am with the PM, if there is anyone missing that could have leaked this fucking private information, then you are in for a whole lot of shit." Daisy promised venomously, before hanging up once more.

"Done." She said, sitting in a plush, leather chair and taking her heels off. Malcolm gave her a thumbs up, still talking anxiously to Tony on the phone.

"Yeah? What fucking proof? Of course you don't have any fucking proof because it didn't happen!" Jamie yelled, his free hand slamming on the desk and causing it to wobble. A pen rolled onto the floor.

"Ey, go and spend time with your boyfriend. I'll find you if I need you." Malcolm said, holding his hand over the phone momentarily.

"Ha, that's a fucking joke. I'd rather stay here." Daisy said, leaning back in her chair.

"Go and mingle or something, there's nothing else we can do tonight." Malcolm insisted, nudging her gently.

"You two just want to get rid of me to carry on with your homosexual activities. But I don't judge, in fact, I'll be the bridesmaid at your wedding. Au revoir, mes copains." She said, before putting her killer heels back on and hobbling to the door, shutting it gently behind her as she left.

"Ooh, you don't look happy." Glenn commented as Daisy arrived back into the function hall.

"I'm fucking not happy. Accompany me to the bar so I can vent my anger to you." She demanded, and Glenn obliged.

"What's happening then? Not with that lot, I know you can't say. But your boyfriend seems like a right prick." Glenn said, ordering a whiskey for himself. Daisy ordered a triple vodka and coke.

"Oh, he is a right prick. Try living with him." She joked, knocking half the drink back and wincing at the taste and the burn of the vodka. "He's a twat. He's stuck in the 1950's and thinks it's okay to have me as a trophy wife, even though I have a job and he fucking doesn't." She explained.

"Then why are you still with him?" Glenn asked, the eighth whiskey of the night making him languid and sleepy.

She shrugged. "It's simpler that way." She explained, smiling sadly and finishing her drink. "Right, fuck him. Come on, Glenn." She said, leading the way back to the floor. "I'm sure I heard something about karaoke, can we put Terri down for a song?" She asked. Glenn snorted.

"Oh, believe me. Her name is already on there. I believe a Whitney Houston song is on the cards for Terri." Glenn assured her. Daisy cringed.

"Really?" She asked.

"Really." Glenn confirmed.

"Can't believe Malcolm's gonna miss that. Fuck it, I'll film it." Daisy grinned, watching as Terri drank even more wine, ensuring her later performance would be even more fucking dreadful.

"Ah, you're one of the few who doesn't despise Malcolm then?" Glenn asked her as they leaned against a pillar in the middle of the room.

"He's harmless." Daisy brushed off, and Glenn rose his eyebrows at her.

"Not the words I'd use." Glenn replied. "Although, I suppose he can sometimes be nice. He's usually friendly enough on nights like these, when there's press and hacks around." He explained. "Obviously whatever's happening is very stressful, he tends to like these events just to take the piss out of the pissed people." Glenn smirked.

"I'll do it on his behalf." Daisy grinned. "Oh, look at him. Leeching over women the pervert." Daisy hissed, staring at Mark, who was standing with a group of women, openly staring at their tits.

"My thoughts exactly." Malcolm said, doing his usual trick of suddenly appearing behind her and Glenn.

"Done for the night?" Daisy turned and asked. He nodded tensely.

"Tomorrow's going to be a nightmare." Malcolm said, rubbing a hand down his face.

"Enjoy tonight then, I've heard Terri's covering Whitney Houston later." Daisy smirked, and Malcolm chuckled.

"Ah, the karaoke is making a comeback, is it?" Malcolm asked, adjusting his black velveteen bow tie. "Definitely worth it." He said, kicking the pillar and going to the bar.

"I'll talk to you later, Glenn." Daisy said, touching his arm before following Malcolm. Glenn smiled and returned to Hugh like a lap dog.

"The PM desperately wants to keep it quiet, obviously. He's currently in his garage so his wife doesn't hear him on the phone." Malcolm quietly told Daisy.

"He was a twat from day one." Daisy replied. "Knew something like this would happen."

"Tell me about it." Malcolm said, asking for a double scotch on ice. Daisy asked for the same again, the throat burning goodness of a triple vodka and coke.

"Right..." Malcolm choked slightly after finishing his drink in one swift glug. "Let's forget about all that, because Terri's fucking getting on stage." He said, grabbing Daisy's elbow and pulling her with him as he shoved his way viciously through the crowds so they could get a good view of her.


	8. Vodka, Karaoke and the Dodgy PM

Chapter Eight: Vodka, Karaoke and the Dodgy PM

Daisy had drank too much, and she knew it. Malcolm was glaring at her from across the room, having warned her only seven hours ago to drink to her limit and most definitely not exceed it. He was also glaring at Jamie, who had been supplying the majority of the alcohol that aided her in getting off her tits pissed.

Mark had his arm around her, keeping her upright. He was also furious, also at Jamie, as he had seen him passing her drinks throughout the night, even when she refused.

"Daise, have another!" Jamie exclaimed, trying to hand her another glass of wine.

"Ey!" Malcolm exclaimed from the bar, trying to catch his attention. Mark beat him to it.

He took the glass and slammed it on the table behind Daisy and he. "Fucking stop it! I have warned you, my friend." Mark said, in his ridiculous spoon-in-mouth accent.

"Ye fuckin' what? What did ye say te me?" Jamie demanded, the alcohol slurring his words.

"Oh, guys. Come on." Julius said, trying to mediate the situation.

"You can shut the fuck up as well ye testicle." Jamie said, pointing his bottle of beer at Julius, who raised his eyebrows indignantly.

"Who even are you? Because if I didn't know any better, I would most definitely say you're trying to get Daisy so drunk that she loses her inhibitions." Mark shouted.

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here." Daisy said, slapping his chest and stepping out from his arm, causing her to stumble. Glenn caught her and propped her back up.

"She's a grown up, she can do what the fuck she wants. She wants to have a good night so I'm fucking aiding that. All you've been doing is letching at other girls, and she's fucking noticed it too ye wee prick." Jamie yelled, his beer bottle slamming onto the bar as he rolled his shirt sleeves up. Mark did the same, and it very well looked like they were about to twat each other.

"Stop it, now. You're ruining my big night." Ben complained, his eyes wide as he watched them both.

"You've been perving on my girlfriend." Mark accused.

"He hasn't." Daisy shook her head insistently.

"You've been perving on every girl in here, including Terri- which is terrifying really." Jamie said, and Terri harrumphed in a dignified way.

"Shut your face so I can give you a jolly good belting." Mark threatened, making Daisy and consequently Malcolm laugh. This was when Malcolm decided to intervene, walking from the bar.

"Oi, you. Pop Eye minus the muscles, sit the fuck down and sober the fuck up. Jamie, roll your sleeves up, darling, you look like a prick. Daisy, follow me and get some fucking coffee because you're on the brink of becoming a news story." Malcolm said, storming away angrily, followed by Terri who took it upon herself to help Daisy follow.

"Yeah! Well, keep your fucking hands off her." Mark shouted, sounding very pathetic as he did as he was told.

"What the fuck were you thinking getting so bladdered you can hardly see?" Malcolm demanded as they stood in the little kitchen of the function hall. She shrugged miserably.

"If any photographers get a photo of you, you'll be in the fucking news. As a joke, may I add. Watch yourself." He warned as she nearly hit her head on the wall as it rolled back with exasperation.

"I'm just nipping to the little girls room, don't do anything I wouldn't." Terri warned, hobbling away.

"Little girls room, the absolute tosser." Daisy laughed.

"Are you gonna answer my question, Daisy?" Malcolm asked, leaning on the kitchen sideboard and looking at her. Her smile fell.

"I was unhappy, so I wanted to forget about it." Daisy explained, shrugging as she did so.

"What've you got to be unhappy about?" Malcolm asked, frowning.

"You just saw him trying to be intimidating." Daisy said, pointing at the door of the kitchen, by which she obviously meant Mark.

"Leave him then." Malcolm said. "He's more of a prick than you said he was, I don't know why you're wasting your time with him. You're blessed with good looks and a good brain, the world's your oyster girl, don't waste it on a fucking prawn." Malcolm advised, turning away as the kettle clicked. He poured her the coffee and handed it her.

"I don't like coffee." She told him. A minute version of his bollocking face appeared and he snatched the cup back.

"Ah, fuck you then." He said, pouring it down the sink and leaving her staggering around, alone in the kitchen.

"Oh, what's happened?" Terri asked as she walked back into the room to find Daisy looking lost.

"He left me." She explained. "Come on. I want you to get back on that fucking karaoke, because your Whitney Houston is second to none." Daisy fumbled for the right words, but ended up relying on Terri to hold her up again, carrying her out into the hall where Malcolm Tucker was waiting for them, leaning against the wall typing on his blackberry.

"Come on, fucking Cinderella and her ugly step-sister, let's get you back to the ball." Malcolm said, helping Terri take her back to the function room.

"You waited!" Daisy exclaimed, grinning.

"Yeah, well. You're my left hand girl, aren't ye? Couldn't leave you to kill yourself or something, imagine the fucking paperwork." He said light-heartedly.

Back in the hall, and Mark had got a cab home, not willing to wait for Daisy or to take any more hassle from Jamie, who had clearly had the last word as he was grinning like he was high as a fucking kite.

"Bastard's taken my fucking bag, and my phone, and my FUCKING FAGS!" Daisy roared as soon as she realised what he'd done.

"Right, calm down, it'll be alright. You sit down, and don't make a fucking sound." Malcolm said, pushing her to a seat. "Ben, fucking watch her. Don't let her wander off like Pete fucking Doherty at a gig." Malcolm ordered. Ben sat down with her, frowning at her as she grunted at him with disgust.

"Jamie, get a cab. Terri make sure Angela Heaney or any other fucking hacks don't see this. We don't want her losing any more dignity." Malcolm ordered. Terri rushed over to the group of hacks.

"Have you seen Julius Nicholson? He's so bladdered that he's throwing up in the gents." Terri said, and they all tried to seem inconspicuous as they rushed in the direction of the gents.

"That was actually pretty smooth Terri." Ollie complimented.

"Quickly! We can't hold the tide for long, and we can't have a picture of a drunk Daisy in the fucking papers. She's been on the job for two days. Fucking move, people!" Malcolm roared, and while Jamie rushed outside to get a cab, Ollie grabbed her and hoisted her up, helping her outside.

"Fucking got one, even though he tried fucking driving away." Jamie muttered, opening the door for her.

"Wait, he doesn't know where he's taking her. Daisy, what's your address?" Ollie asked.

"My dress is Ted Baker." Daisy replied, grinning.

"No, what is your home address?" Ollie asked. She shrugged and closed her eyes, leaning her head back and apparently going to sleep.

"Right, let me ring Mark." Ollie said, getting his phone out and ringing him.

"No!" Daisy woke up then, her hand flinging out, tears actually forming in her eyes. "Don't ring him, I fucking hate him. He makes me want to gouge my own fucking eyes out." She simpered.

"Hey Mark, we've got Daisy in a cab, what's the address?" He asked. Mark told him and Ollie conveyed this information to the driver. Malcolm came outside at the ideal time and gave the driver a wad of cash.

"You fucking give her the change or I'll break your skull." Malcolm threatened, and the driver nodded. "Ah, look at her. The epitome of grace and class, she'll fucking regret this in the morning." He muttered to Jamie.

"Malcolm." Daisy said, and he begrudgingly went to the wound down window. "You're a fucking tosser and I hate you, but you're alright, you know?" She asked, before patting his cheek and winding the window up, nearly catching his nose.

"She's in for a fucking whirlwind of shit from me tomorrow." Malcolm muttered as he walked away from the car, hands in his pockets as he marched back into the function hall without even glancing back at the car.

Ollie and Jamie waved goodbye and followed him in. "I thought you didn't like her after your little tiff in there before." Jamie said.

"Well, she sort of grows on you when she's drunk. She's like a pissed bambi." Ollie replied, shrugging. Jamie frowned at him..

"You're fucking mental." He told him, walking quicker to get away.

~8~8~8~8~8~8~8~

_Hello! Yes, I'm finally talking to you lot. I've been getting a few reviews (I don't expect many, the fanbase of the Thick of It seems to be limited sadly), so I thought I'd take the time to thank each of you for commenting and keeping me going. Obviously, it's hard writing something and getting no feedback, so thanks a lot! Also really glad you're liking it so far, I hope I've made you laugh and that the characters aren't too different from the canon. Obviously, I'm planning on doing a bit of Daisy and Malcolm loving, but that's not going to be for a loooooong time, I'm planning on having a bit of fun with it first. Anyway, keep reading and keep reviewing, thank you! X_


	9. Control

Chapter Nine: Control

"Yeah, you don't have to keep shouting at me, Malcolm, I'm really fucking embarrassed!" Daisy exclaimed, nursing a hangover, clasping her bottle of water like it was a fucking oxygen tank at the bottom of the ocean.

"I don't give a shit! You've lost the respect of your peers, and you're going to have to work that little fucking peachy arse of yours off today getting back what little credibility and fucking authority you had over those people! This is exactly why I told you not to drink!" Malcolm yelled.

"Everyone else was drunk too! I bet you've not shouted at fucking Jamie!" Daisy yelled right back, despite her own voice pounding at her head like a hammer.

"No, I haven't, but I fucking will be doing! Handing you more vodka every other fucking minute, WHERE WAS YOUR SELF CONTROL GIRL?" He demanded, pointing aggressively in her face.

"It went with the third fucking drink." Daisy said, sulking at her lap.

"Right, here's what we do. You do whatever it is you need to do to get you looking from Stig of the Dump to the Daisy we all fucking know, and then you go and shout at people for even thinking about you in that state last night. You threaten every inch of their fucking bodies if they ever mention it, and you let them know right away that it does not give them the right to question your authority. Right?" Malcolm asked.

"Believe it or not, I'd already fucking thought of that." Daisy snapped.

"Hey! It's your fucking third day, do not get clever with me." Malcolm threatened, getting his blackberry out to get his driver to bring the car round.

"I don't know why you're so fucking bothered anyway, it's my dignity in tatters, not yours." Daisy said as she reached in her bag for her makeup and hairbrush. She also got out her heels to replace her New Balance, and some perfume to liberally spruce herself up.

"Because... Because... You.. You're supposed to be under my wing! And what does it make me look like if you can't control yourself?" He asked, relatively less angry.

"Right, sorry. I'll sort it. It'll be fine." Daisy assured him, putting so much concealer on the bags under her eyes that she looked uneven and freakish, which obviously made Malcolm laugh at her.

She smirked as she rubbed it in properly, and then proceeded to apply the rest of her makeup.

She did her hair in the car, she also put her heels on, tucked her shirt into her pencil skirt, hitched her tights up and spritzed herself with perfume, so much so that it made Malcolm choke.

"What do you think?" She asked Malcolm.

"Perfection, darlin'." He said sarcastically, handing her back the mirror she'd made him hold up through all fifteen minutes of her makeup application.

"You ready?" He then asked. She nodded. "Go on, give me your best bollocking face." He demanded. She grinned whilst trying to look threatening, ruining the illusion. "Try harder." He told her. She tried to look angrier, but he could see her smile shining through. "Ah! Fucking forget it." He said with mock anger, also smiling.

As they got out of the car at DoSAC, Malcolm had to empower her to walk like she wasn't morbidly embarrassed. "Come on, everyone gets fucking drunk. There'll be a few jokes, and you'll shoot them down because I know you can. Be fucking Boadicea. Channel that Emaline Pankhurst you little Virginia Woolf, you. Burn your fucking bra!" He exclaimed as a war-cry, and she grinned, which immediately made her look ten times more positive and confident.

As soon as she walked into the office, Ollie cheered. "Here she is. You know, apparently three shots of vodka makes Daisy wilt?!" He exclaimed.

"Bet you've been working on that analogy since you fucking left last night, haven't you? Yeah? Well that was really fucking unfunny." Daisy snapped, and Malcolm folded his arms and leaned against the door to their offices and watched as her real bollocking face appeared.

"She's right, mate." Glenn chipped in. "Although, you know, you did let yourself go a bit." He agreed gently.

"Right, this is going to be the last time any of us fucking mention last night, all right? Yes, I was drunk, and yes I am fucking embarrassed, but I did nothing as bad as what all of you have fucking done when you've been drunk. And I knew I'd have to have this wee conversation this morning, because you're all so fucking predictable. So here we go..." She said, getting her phone out. "A photo of Ollie in drag that Mark sent me. A photoshopped picture of Hugh and Claire Donnoway going at it. An excerpt of Terri's fucking diary, with the name '_Mrs Terri Mannion_' scrawled in her hand writing and... nothing for Glenn, because I actually quite like him." Daisy said, looking up from her phone. "Now, are we going to mention my little débâcle again?" She demanded, looking absolutely furious. Glenn looked somewhat smugly at his peers.

They all shook their heads, looking relatively worried about the information she had on her phone. "Right, let's put this behind us, and keep our professional relationship, yes?" She asked.

"Yes." Terri said quickly, while the others simply nodded.

"Perfection." Daisy grinned, turning and walking away, with Malcolm hot on her heels.

"Excellently done. When did you get all that?" He asked, vaguely impressed, gesturing to her phone.

"In the cab this morning." She grinned at him. "Told you I'd sort it."

"The new girl likes me." Glenn grinned at Ollie.

"Oh, fuck off Glenn." Ollie said, pushing his glasses back up his nose and fuming silently at his computer. He then perked up when he remembered Terri's diary. "Hey, Terri _Mannion_, do you think Emma would love to hear about your diary as much as I think she will?" He asked, grinning at her.

"That was a joke!" Terri exclaimed, glaring. "I jokingly nicknamed myself Terri Mannion. As a joke." She said, flustered and blushing.

"A joke with yourself?" Hugh asked in his usual docile way. "Very fucking funny, top class joking there, Terri." Hugh said sarcastically, causing both Ollie and Glenn to guffaw before he walked into his office and slammed the door shut.

Meanwhile, as Daisy forced Malcolm to get a coffee with her as they walked back to Downing Street, her phone began ringing. She knew who it would be. She watched as Malcolm ordered their coffee for them and quickly rummaged through her bag to find her phone.

"Hi." She said, trying to hide her smile behind her voice.

"Daise, what the fuck? Where have you put my house keys?" Mark demanded.

"I haven't seen them. I'm at work." Daisy reminded him, grinning as she saw his set of keys lying at the bottom of her bag.

"I have to be out today, I'm meeting the lads. Where have you put them? I always put them in the same place and they're not there!" Mark yelled.

"It's not my problem if you can't find _your_ keys, Mark. You should be more careful." Daisy said, hanging up before she started laughing. He had been a prick to her the previous night when she'd got home, calling her a '_cheap prostitute_' for how she was behaving. So she locked him in the house when she left for work and had no intentions of returning until much later that night.

She turned her phone off and put it back in her bag, grabbing some pain killers as she did so. As Malcolm brought her coffee over, she downed two paracetamol with the scolding latte.

"You needed that, aye?" He asked, smirking as she put her bag back over her shoulder. "Who was that on the phone?" He asked, thinking it was about work.

"I've stolen Mark's house keys and locked him in the house." Daisy grinned.

"That's quite good, actually. But if you hate him so much, why don't you just leave him? He's just a depraved twat who's stuck fifty years in the past and it resentful toward you because you're fucking _living_ your life while he wants you to fucking cook him food all day like Daisy Buchanan." Malcolm told her, getting worked up apparently.

"Yeah, I know. I will do. Eventually." She sighed quietly. His eyebrows raised at that but he didn't say a word.

"Did Jamie get home all right last night? He seemed worse than I did." Daisy smirked slightly.

"He made an impression of you, eh? Was it when he threatened to twat your boyfriend, did it do things for you?" Malcolm asked, not looking at her once.

"I'd actually forgotten about that. What's with you today? You're being a prick." Daisy frowned, stopping in the middle of the pavement. Malcolm also stopped, looking irritated.

"Come on, we need to get back." He complained, staring her right in the eyes. Daisy stood her ground.

"I'll get a cab. Can't be arsed with you if you're gonna be a prick." Daisy muttered, getting her phone out her bag. It was ringing. Malcolm saw as she visibly deflated. His heart went out to her a little.

"What do you want?" She growled into the phone.

"Daisy, give me my keys. I need to go." Mark shouted, so loud that even Malcolm could hear.

"I haven't fucking got your keys, Mark!" Daisy exclaimed, however, she was now smiling again. Malcolm stormed over to her and grabbed the phone.

"Look, mate. She's very busy at work and doesn't need a prick like you fucking pestering her all day. Now, fuck off or I'll come and ram your keys up your fucking arse until they rupture your spleen." Malcolm said through gritted teeth, before hanging up and handing the phone back.

"Thanks." Daisy muttered.

"Now then, are you walking with me or are you getting a cab?" Malcolm asked, acting as if he was talking to a child.

"I'm walking with you." She then relented.

"Fucking fantastic." Malcolm grinned, only half-sarcastically. "And to answer your question, Jamie did get in all right. In fact, he's at Downing Street right now." Malcolm told her, noticing with a solemn sadness how her pace quickened at that little comment.

As soon as they reached Downing Street, Daisy rushed into Malcolm's office and closed the curtains as to not be blinded by the too-bright, too-hot sun that was hindering her recovery from the night before.

"Ah, here she is. The star of the show. The belle of the ball. How you feeling, you little trollop, you?" Jamie asked as he sauntered into the office, leaning against the door and looking remarkably pale. She couldn't help but smile.

"I'm feeling absolutely fine, perky as usual, absolutely bright and wonderful. What about you? God, you look like you're glowing!" Daisy said sarcastically, knowing he was aware of how pale and tired he looked.

"Oh, I am feeling ready to do it all over again. Where's Malc? I'm pencilled in for a bollocking round about now." Jamie said, looking at his watch.

"He _was_ right behind me, I don't know where he is now. I've already had my bollocking. What's yours about?" She asked.

"Probably threatening 'innocent' members of the public and flirting with his little entourage all night." Jamie explained.

"Christ, was that flirting?" Daisy asked. Jamie's eyes narrowed at her just as she broke into a grin.

It was at that point that Malcolm walked in. "Right, you. Get out there." Malcolm said, pointing first at said entourage and then outside. Daisy did as she was told, shutting the door behind her but pressing her ear against the door.

"What the fuck were you doing last night?" Malcolm asked quietly, dangerously. "I didn't think I'd have to have this conversation with you, Jamie. Come on, pull yourself together. She's _just_ a new girl. It's like you've lost all fucking control of yourself. What the fuck were you playing at?" He demanded.

"I wasn't playing at anything. I was _trying _to make her comfortable considering the fact that her total cunt of a boyfriend was out to ruin her night. She looked like she was about to cry, and unlike you, I give a shit about people." Jamie shouted back.

"I care about people!" Malcolm yelled. "I just keep it to a professional level. You got her so drunk out of her mind that she could have passed out in the street and had some _very_ nasty comments made about her by the press. She's new, you're supposed to be helping her out a little, not fucking dragging her name through the dirt." Malcolm argued.

"I wouldn't be so controlling over her if I were you. She's obviously got her ear pressed against the door." Jamie told Malcolm. They both heard heeled footsteps quickly running away.

Malcolm exhaled and turned to the window for a moment.

"Look, Malc. I know you're going through a lot of stress with this divorce shit, and I know she's young and pretty and nice but you can't control her like this. She is her own person who deserves to have a nice time of it. She did a pretty good job last night, she's about to observe on this meeting between the PM and that fucking estate agency, she doesn't need you controlling her every move." Jamie advised.

"Yes, thanks Jamie. But if I needed advice from you I'd fucking ask." Malcolm said quietly, moving to sit down on his chair, near enough collapsing on it.

"Well, buckle up because I've got more for ye. Convince her to get rid of that prick of a boyfriend sooner rather than later. You might be in with a chance then, eh?" Jamie said.

"I don't want to be in with a fucking chance. I'm not interested in starting anything of a relationship with anybody if that's what you're fucking implying you dodgy fuck. Especially with her. She's half my age _and_ she's my understudy. I'm not one of those perverted old men who take advantage of girls with a daddy complex and ruin their fucking lives, Jamie. I am not interested- get that idea right out of your head." Malcolm continued in that worn-down, tired voice of his.

"Right, right. Okay. I'll fuck off then. See you later, Malc. That meeting is re-adjourning again in about an hour so I'll come and pick Daisy up." Jamie told him. Malcolm nodded as Jamie left.

"Daisy!" Malcolm yelled, pulling himself back together.

The girl stuck her head through the door, smiling sheepishly. "Yes, mein Fuhrer?" She asked.

"Jamie's picking you up in about forty five minutes to take you to that meeting with the PM and that fucking estate agency. I'd turn your phone off so your twatty boyfriend doesn't keep ringing you and demanding his keys back." Malcolm seemed drained, as if the very vitality he usually seemed to have had simply disappeared during the course of the day. And it was only 11am.

"Great." Daisy said sarcastically, once again doing as she was told and turning her phone off. She had three angry texts from Mark that she refused to open and read.

Sam tentatively knocked on the office door and was called in by Malcolm. She brought him a pile of newspapers, and a cup of coffee.

"Have you not got one for Daisy?" Malcolm demanded angrily. Sam rolled her eyes, apparently having some issue with the new girl, and left to make her one.

"What's her fucking problem?" Daisy mumbled, frowning as she noticed a bunch of dead flowers in a vase by the windowsill. She quickly tipped them into the bin, intending to restock with new ones when she had the chance.

"She thinks you're a bit of a posh prick." Malcolm explained nonchalantly, flicking through a few of the papers. His phone beeped angrily and he quickly moved to check it.

"PM's making his way back to the meeting now. Apparently, not everyone from the agency turned up before." Malcolm explained to Daisy.

"Are you coming as well?" Daisy asked him, glaring as Sam brought her a cup of coffee too. "Wanker." She muttered as the woman left the office. Malcolm raised his eyes inconspicuously at her insult.

"I've got my best woman on the job. I don't need to." Malcolm explained, returning his eyes to his phone and texting rapidly back with various insults and cursives.

"Who else will be there?" Daisy asked.

"Your new fuck-buddy, Hugh, a horrid woman called Elizabe-" Malcolm began.

"What the fuck is your problem with me being friends with Jamie?" Daisy demanded. "We're friends, not fuck buddies, and it would be nothing to do with you even if we were." Daisy insisted, looking furious and leaning forwards in her office chair opposite Malcolm's to get her point across.

"Oh, come on. You were practically salivating over him last night." Malcolm scoffed, turning away slightly.

"Maybe you're not as omniscient as you think you are, Malcolm Tucker. Because that is a load of bullshit that you've conjured up out of thin air. Shut the fuck up about me and Jamie- we are work colleagues and nothing more." Daisy shouted, making the two coffee cups nearly spill over with the vibrato of her shout.

"Christ, you've got a pair of lungs on you. I'll talk to you about this later, but I think you should be preparing for this meeting." Malcolm told her, his eyes narrowing and creating a sinister atmosphere around him.

"Fucking fine." Daisy grumbled, flicking through the printed sheets that Sam had left on Malcolm's desk, giving information on who exactly worked at this estate agency and who may have spread the news to the press about the PM's compromising situation with his own fuck buddy. Her attention was split, however, between the small booklet in front of her and the irritated man opposite from her. Her eyes kept darting up to glance at him, which he most definitely noticed despite pretending not to.

She seemed agitated after their small argument, constantly shifting in her seat and flicking through the pages without even scan-reading them.

"What's wrong now?" He muttered very quietly, not looking up from his own file he was occasionally flicking through.

"There is nothing going on with me and Jamie, and there never will be. Can you just get that idea out of your mind? Please?" Daisy asked, sounding distressed by the whole ordeal. Why it mattered so much to her anyway, Malcolm didn't know.

"Fine. Good. I believe you." Malcolm nodded, briefly glimpsing at her before turning back to his file.

Daisy nodded too, relaxing slightly and turning her full attention to the booklet.

About twenty minutes later and there was a firm knock on the door. Jamie walked in without waiting to be called.

"Your car awaits, Miss Maynard." He directed at her. Daisy smiled and picked up her things, tucking the booklet under her arm and throwing both of their coffee cups in the bin with the dead flowers.

"Thank you, Mr McDonald." She smiled. "I'll text you, Malcolm." She called as Jamie led the way to his car.

"Yeah, what-fucking-ever." Malcolm muttered to himself. "Prepare to be forced into listening to Al Jolson for the entirety of your fucking journey."

"I heard that, you massive prick!" Jamie yelled in response.

~8~8~8~8~8~8~8~8~

_Once again, thank you for your lovely reviews, especially 'Flossy', your wonderful review inspired me to finally finish this chapter I've been writing for the past few days. Keep them coming guys! Hope you enjoyed this one._


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